Delicate
by halfasblind
Summary: AU. A one night stand blossoms into much more than Lucas and Peyton originally bargained for.
1. Just a Numbing Charade

Disclaimer: One Tree Hill and its characters belong to Mark Schwahn, The CW, etc. I'm simply whoring them for my own amusement.

Spoilers/Warnings: I'm screwing with pretty much everything in the OTH verse. For now if you've seen S1, you're golden.

Summary: AU. A one night stand blossoms into much more than Lucas and Peyton originally bargained for.

A/N: I love AU. I always have. Do I usually write AU? No. Though canon usually sucks major ass, I never feel compelled to tweak the world that the creator has built. But this fic kept plaguing me, and well... here we are. This takes place after high school and college, when everyone is either pursuing their careers or is already successful in them. Mostly this fic will follow Lucas & Peyton as they meet and fall in love, a fic I've been _dying _to write. Plus, it's going to be happy and shiny and not angsty (at all, if it can be helped). It starts off in L.A. but will eventually wind up in Tree Hill.

P.S. Yeah, I know I shouldn't be posting a new fic since _Fault & Fracture_ is still nowhere near complete. But I needed something fun and not so... depressing. I'll do my best to even out the updates. If you guys like this, that is.

—

**01. Just a Numbing Charade**

_I hate networking parties_, Lucas Scott thought as he slipped through the door behind a pair of cackling women, nodding and exchanging handshakes as he made his way deeper inside the room filled with paparazzi, actors, models and musicians. Not to mention those of his ilk: authors. It was the last place he wanted to spend his last Friday before his book tour, but here he was, threatened and cajoled by his publicist as if he had no control of his own life. Which he didn't.

Stopping at the bar, he grabbed a Heineken then began to hobnob. The quicker he made his presence known the quicker he could get back to his hotel for a little Madden NFL action on the Wii, which was no doubt the reason that Alicia, his publicist, goaded him into attending the party tonight—to get him away from his gaming system.

He didn't have many friends in Los Angeles so whenever he was in town on business, he stayed in, ordered room service and attempted to master a new game on the Wii. That is, when he wasn't writing a book, which, at the moment, he was not.

He'd promised himself an hour—tops—to mingle, show his face, converse with people he didn't know and didn't care to know. Now that he was here, he had the overwhelming urge to turn tail and run back to his hotel. Like a little girl.

Meandering through the crowd, Lucas stopped to talk to a fellow author, one who commended Lucas's latest book, inquired to a sequel. Lucas simply smiled; it was all he could do, since a sequel wasn't neither planned nor plotted. Much to his editor's chagrin.

_"Lucas Scott!"_

Lucas heard his name in that nasally voice belonging to Janice Mitchell and schooled himself to be polite and personable—even if conversing with her made him want to cut off his ears, just to spare himself the unpleasantness of listening to her speak. Plastering a smile on his face, he turned to face the aspiring model, the bane of is existence, the woman that he literally wanted to squash with his shoe—if only it were possible.

"Janice, hey. Hi. How are you?" She did the air kiss thing that annoyed him beyond comprehension then proceeded to stick her left hand in his face, a glittering princess-cut diamond the size of Cuba adorning her ring finger. "Well. How about that? So, you're engaged?" He silently thanked God and any other deity that had brought a man to Janice to distract her attention from him. The woman had been chasing him since his first book had been released, during his first year of college. She had pursued him relentlessly yet somehow he had dodged all of her long-winded efforts for six long years.

Janice nodded vehemently, dropping her gaze to her finger. She sighed, the sound content, happy. "Stuart is a movie producer. It was love at first sight, if you can believe it."

He couldn't, he didn't. Lucas believed in many things—the Bermuda Triangle, the afterlife, ghosts—but love at first sight? There was no way that one could look at a person and simply know that they had found _the one_. It wasn't possible. Love came from getting to know a person—their family, their faults, their habits and quirks. Love developed over time, not in the space of a few seconds, from merely a look.

"Congratulations," he told her. Although he felt sorry for the poor sop who was planning to marry the woman, annoying as her voice was.

Janice gave him a sickeningly sweet smile. "Really, Lucas, I couldn't continue to wait for you. Surely, I'd die an old maid." She punctuated the barb with a nasally laugh and a nudge to his chest.

Lucas snapped his fingers. "Damn my bad luck. Another woman lost. My loss, I guess." Thank _God_. He couldn't picture himself—or any man in possession of all his faculties—that would tie himself to Janice. Willingly.

After another few moments of listening to her talk through her nose, Janice left his side, finding someone in the crowd more worthy of her company, an acquaintance of her soon-to-be-husband's, she'd said. Lucas found himself not bereaved of the loss one whit. He should probably be ashamed of himself. But he was not.

As he made his way back to the bar for a fresh beer, having digested the majority of his in an attempt to block out Janice's voice, his phone vibrated in his pants pocket. He fished it out, quickly flipping it open. Unsurprisingly, it was Haley.

"Lucas, it's Friday night, tell me that you're not at home in front of that useless video game." Though, he didn't see much of his longtime friend as he liked to, he always looked forward to her calls, even if the bulk of them were to chastise him or lecture him. Half the time while talking to her, he felt like he was having a conversation with his mother. One was plenty.

He rolled his eyes, gesturing to the bartender, thankful that these things had an open bar. "Of course not. I'm being productive, just like my publicist told me to. I am nothing if not an obedient puppy."

"Wait. Where are you?"

"At the Balsam in Hollywood Hills. I'm bored out of my fucking mind, too. I should've just said to hell with what Alicia wanted and stayed home. I could be packing. I should be packing." He usually hated when his book tours took him overseas, but this time he was actually looking forward to his itinerary. He was scheduled to stop in Paris, Rome, London, places that he'd always dreamt of visiting, but had never found the time to.

"You're here? At the Balsam?" Haley said, incredulous.

Lucas looked around, looking for the familiar brunette. "Are you here?" Though, he couldn't imagine what Haley could be doing at an industry event. In California.

"Yeah. Hold on. I see you. Stay at the bar."

Lucas snapped his phone closed, sliding it back into his pocket. He glanced into the crowd, saw Haley pushing her way through toward. She appeared at his side as the barkeep handed him his beer. "You're a sight for sore eyes!" she told him, hugging him tightly.

"As are you." She let him go, placing her drink order with the bartender as he asked, "What are you doing here?"

Haley didn't miss a beat. "Brace yourself. Are you braced? I've signed a record deal." Before Lucas could explode into congratulations, Haley went on to say, "My producer made me tag along with her tonight in an attempt to get my face out there. She's already hooked me up with a photographer that's going to do the photo shoot for my album and my first single is going to be remixed by will. i. am."

"Wow," Lucas gaped, at a loss for words. "Congratulations doesn't even fully convey how happy I am for you, Haley. I didn't even know that you were still pursuing music." He'd been away from home for awhile, having spent the last few months in Montana, researching and writing a book. Phone calls with Haley had been frequent, but a lot had went unsaid. Too much.

"I wasn't really," she confessed, "but I had sent out some demos a while back. I had despaired of ever hearing anything from anyone. But there I was sitting at one of Nathan's games and I struck up this conversation with the girlfriend of one of his teammates. She's the friend of a friend of this producer who is known for signing really obscure acts. Up-and-comers. Everyone knows everyone in this business, it seems. Anyway, I had to email her another demo and within a few days she was flying me out here—first class, might I add—to start recording. Isn't that something?"

"Yeah. So, um... what does Nathan say about all of this? I'm sure you've told him."

Haley smiled at Lucas, thankful for his attempt to remain civil in regards to his brother. The two had had a falling out a few years before and only conversed when it was absolutely necessary. She didn't dare intervene, but had remained close friends with the both of them. "I don't think he's processed it all yet, but, yeah, he's happy for me. He's a little disappointed that I won't be at his games anymore, though. As if I was the only one in the crowd cheering for him." Haley rolled her eyes.

"I'm sure you were the only one whose cheers meant anything, Haley." The words burned his throat on the way out, but they were the truth. Lucas knew how his brother felt about Haley and vice versa. Nathan and Haley hadn't been able to make a relationship work, but somehow they'd maintained their friendship. He knew that it meant a lot to Nathan to have Haley there, supporting him.

Their conversation was upended by the loud beeping of Haley's phone. He watched as Haley read the message, telling him, "That's her. I gotta go. She wants to introduce me to her fashion designer best friend who I'll be wearing for my album art." A delighted giggle escaped her mouth. With a kiss to his cheek, Haley disappeared into the crowd, leaving Lucas to his own devices.

After Haley had disappeared, he checked his watch, promising himself that he'd stick it out for another hour, then head back to his hotel. He stood at the bar, striking up a conversation with the woman next to him, watching the clock like it was a ticking time bomb.

—

A half-hour later Lucas found himself taking a reprieve outside. He was nursing a glass of Scotch, standing on the balcony, overlooking the gardens. He set his half-empty glass down on the stone railing, breathing in the warm air, reveling in the silence. That, however, was disturbed when he heard the door open behind him. He barely smothered a groan.

"Are you hiding, too?"

Lucas turned to the voice. A soft, seductive purr that sent chills through his body. She was pulling the door closed, clutching a small purse, her cell phone and a glass of wine in her hand. He didn't notice much about her appearance, cloaked in the darkness she was. But as she stepped near him, he noted her hair was dark, pulled back away from her face, accentuating high cheekbones and a pair of mesmerizing eyes whose color he couldn't discern despite the moonlight.

"It's quiet out here. I can't think in there," he told her, nodding his head to the ballroom that they had both vacated.

"I know what you mean," she said, setting her bounty on the railing, all her items in a neat row. Lucas would've laughed had she not begun talking. "In there every time you turn there's someone vying for your attention, some peon wanting to introduce you to his best friend's cousin's sister's great-uncle, twice removed who has this knack for singing or dancing or can act their way out of a wet paper bag. They all want something from you, whether it's your attention, your bed, or to turn them into the next Brad or Angelina." She sighed, lifting her glass to her lips. "It's overwhelming and taxing and not to mention very, very annoying."

"It goes with the territory."

She took a sip of her wine, swallowing as she nodded. "Yes. Yes, it does." Leaning her hip against the railing, she said, "You're not one of them, are you? Because you don't look one of them."

"One of them?" Lucas questioned. "Aren't you one of them?"

She gave him a condescending look and answered, "I look like one of them, but I assure you that I am not." She almost sounded disgusted at being his premature selective criticism.

"Then the same could be said for me," Lucas told her, wondering why he was chatting up a complete stranger. If he wanted to be honest with himself, he would admit that it was because he was lonely and not because he was simply biding his time until he could catch a cab home. It didn't bother noting that since this woman had joined him he hadn't checked his watch.

"I'm Peyton," she told him by way of introduction.

"Lucas," he said in kind.

"You're not much of a talker, are you, Lucas?" Peyton took another sip of wine. "I don't mind holding up most of the conversation, but some guys don't like their women chatty. It's all just a personal preference, really. So, tell me. How do you like _your_ women?"

Well, that was a loaded question, now wasn't it? And Lucas was pretty certain she had intended it to be so. Before he could stop himself, he supplied, "Submissive."

"Hmm," Peyton said, tapping her chin with a perfectly manicured nail. "That's quite naughty. I like that in a man."

Lucas laughed, unable to help himself. "I don't know why I said that. I've never been into bondage or whips or chains or any of that stuff." Though, the prospect of her tied to his bed, at his mercy, suddenly held some appeal. He quickly banished the thought before it could take root and spur him into action.

Peyton stared down into her dwindling glass of wine. She had come to this party not only to show off her new client, but to find entertainment for the night. Not necessarily someone to take home, but someone that could engage her in conversation and not have her falling asleep standing up.

Though, a one night stand did sound appealing. After all, she didn't have time to date. The more clients she procured, the less time she had to find a man and keep him interested. And the ones that she did manage to lure and keep on the hook ran fast and far away once they got to know her. Plus, she was usually more successful than them—and most men didn't want successful women.

The man standing in front of her intrigued her. He was handsome, a boyish cute, really, and had that wholesome look to him. She wasn't normally attracted to that type of man. Maybe that was the point. Maybe the universe was giving her a hint that since her relationships with bad boys, slackers, and musicians, didn't pan out, she should leave herself open to the possibility of something worthwhile happening with a decent, honest guy.

"Yeah, me neither. I always figured that when I wanted to be that adventurous, it would happen once I got really serious—but probably not until I was married."

Lucas noted to himself that this was a bizarre conversation to have with a virtual stranger. Not to say that he'd initiate such a conversation with a woman he was dating—because he wouldn't. Hell. Maybe that's why his relationships ended so abruptly, because he wasn't so forthcoming with conversation. Food for thought.

"So, Lucas. Tell me… are you single? I don't see a wedding ring, or a line from one." Peyton had been casually checking out his hands as they'd talked. He had nice hands. Not those manicured, lotioned-up things that most guys in L.A. had, but a real man's hands. She wondered how they'd feel against her skin, plucking her nipples, sliding between her legs. She shook her head to get rid of the images that arose, but once they were planted they were there to stay. She stepped around Lucas, needing to move her suddenly warm body.

"Not married, no. Not dating anyone either. You?"

"Me? No, no, no," she answered. As an afterthought, she added, "Unfortunately," wanting to kick herself afterward. She didn't want to marry tomorrow, but eventually she did. Happily, if she could manage it. Her relationships were few and far between and those that she did manage to prolong only lasted a few weeks at most. Jake had been the exception, but that was high school. A lifetime ago.

Lucas cocked his head to the side, regarding her curiously. "But you want to be?"

"Doesn't every woman?"

"Most, yes," Lucas agreed, "but something tells me that you're not like most women."

She gave him a broad smile that had his heart singing. Never had a woman bestowed him such a gift. Peyton opened her mouth to say something, seemed to think better of it, then just shook her head. A moment later, she said, "I was thinking about a walk. Would you mind escorting me? One never knows what one may encounter in the dark."

They both knew that she wasn't talking about the walk in the garden, but their chance meeting out here. Lucas stepped back, waving his arm. "After you."

"A gentleman," she scoffed. "How depressing."

Lucas followed her down the steps, onto the stone path that led into the gardens. Peyton grew quiet, her face upturned towards the sky, the moon playing against her skin as it shifted in and out of the clouds. "I don't make a habit of this, you know," she disrupted the silence by saying. Lucas gave her a blank look. "I don't pick guys up. They pant after my heels, pursue me. I let them. I get lonely, I work long hours, I don't… I don't know why I'm telling you any of this."

"Sometimes it's easier with strangers. I've heard that from friends who have… well, anyway. I've heard that it's easier to talk to a stranger than to tell someone you know that you're lonely or that you secretly want to be tied up and spanked."

Peyton attempted a glare, but wound up smirking instead. "I never said I wanted to be spanked. I could be coerced into being tied up, though. With silk ties." They stopped walking as Peyton reached out to finger his tie. _Silk_. "Mmm. Well. Maybe this is a sign."

"Don't most guys in L.A. have silk ties?"

"Yes, but not all the guys in L.A. are standing here with me talking about spanking and tying me up."

"True," he conceded. "So, very true."

Curious, Peyton asked, "So, would you be interested?"

"In what? The tying up or the spanking?" It had been a long time since Lucas had openly flirted with a woman. However, this kind of flirtation was dangerous. Especially when the other party seemed extremely intent on broadening his bedroom activities. Not that he had a problem with that. He was kind of rusty with the whole one night stand scene. He hadn't engaged in one since high school and that itself had been a disaster.

Peyton grinned, liking this Lucas with every second that passed. She thought about his question for a second. "Do I warrant the spanking? Have I been a bad girl?"

"Truthfully?"

"Of course."

Lucas held her gaze for a long moment before he replied. The air was charged around them and he just couldn't help his reply. "No, you haven't been bad. There's still time for that to change."

Peyton felt a shiver travel up and down her spine in response to his words. She licked her lips. "Do you have to go back inside?" she asked him, having a hard time getting her breathing under control.

Lucas shook his head. "Nah. I was leaving soon anyway."

"Want to leave now?"

—

Lucas followed Peyton into her posh studio, taking in the open space, the various art supplies that were strewn about, the mounds and mounds (and mounds and mounds) of albums that congregated an entire wall. Speaking of walls, they were red. Bright red, at that. The color spoke of Peyton's personality, hinted that she'd been hurt in the past. On the far side of the room, a huge black contemporary bed sat in front of a bevy of windows, unmade, begging to be filled. He pulled at his collar.

"I know it's a mess. Please don't judge. It's not usually like this." Lucas grinned at her, as if he didn't believe her. She threw up her hands. "Okay. Alright. So, it's always like this. Just… _please_… ignore everything."

Lucas bent over, plucking a scrap of material off the floor. "Even this?" he asked, swinging a black lace bra pinched between his fingers.

Peyton quickly snatched it from him, clutching it behind her hand. "Yes. Even that. Keep this up and you'll be choking on it, instead of pulling it off with your teeth."

Peyton spun on her heel, leading him into the kitchen. She threw the bra into a cabinet under the sink while Lucas looked on with amusement. Then, crossing to the refrigerator, she pulled open the door to survey its contents, all of it meager and outdated. Finally, she found two beers stashed toward the back from the last time Brooke had been in town and dropped in unannounced, as she was known to do. _Just hopefully not tonight_, Peyton silently prayed.

Lucas took the proffered beers, snapping off the caps easily. He handed Peyton back hers, turning around to take stock of Peyton's place. "This is nice."

"Messy," she corrected, moving to stand beside him. "You meant to say messy."

"I did not," he insisted, turning his head so that she didn't see him smirking. "This _is_ nice. The chaos and destruction notwithstanding."

"I work a lot. I don't have time to clean. When I am home, I'm in bed."

Lucas felt his heart stop in his chest—and he had a heart condition! He tried not to visibly choke on his beer, but it was hard not to when she was throwing around comments like that. After all, it was only a matter of time before they found themselves rolling around in that bed with their clothes off.

Peyton pounded on his back when it looked as if Lucas was going to choke on his drink. She hadn't touched his skin, but she was still shocked by the electricity that scorched her hand, her fingers, and spread through her entire body. It had never been like this, like a _need_, a craving. Not even with Jake and she'd had it pretty bad for him. No this was different and that should scare her. It didn't.

"I'm a pretty nice guy, but if you keep talking about bed, I might have to haul you over there and throw you down on yours," he said, nodding to the bed in the far corner of the room.

Her hand still on his back, Peyton breathed heavily, "Well, I _was_ hoping to corrupt you," she admitted, jokingly. Kind of.

"You're doing a fine job of that. I've thought of little less but stripping you naked and bearing you down on the floor." Or the bed, he wasn't really particular. The floor was closer, though. And Lucas was a big fan of easy access.

"This floor?" she said, dumbly, feeling her intelligence slowly slipping away with every word they exchanged.

"Is there another floor you prefer? The bathroom floor, perhaps?"

Peyton frowned. "Definitely not. It's tile. Cold. Plus, there's the bathtub. I don't fancy smacking my head on it while you're—" She snapped her mouth shut.

"Oh, no. Don't stop. Finish that sentence," Lucas urged, curious as to what it was that she was about to say. No doubt it was something very, very interesting—and delightfully naughty.

"I'd rather not," she replied meekly, her bravado having fled.

Lucas tipped up her chin with one hand, his other hand curling around her hip to pull her close. "It's been awhile since I've done this, you might have to help navigate me."

"I'll be gentle," Peyton murmured just before Lucas swooped in and took her mouth, licking and nibbling her lips until her mouth parted on a gasp and his tongue swept inside to tangle with hers.

Everything happened in a flurry. Within the span of a few seconds, Lucas had her dress pooled around her feet, her bra undone, his hand cupping her breast in his warm palm. Neither of them stopped to think, to breathe, they were too focused on the physical, the feeling.

His hands were everywhere, warming skin that previous lovers had left cold, skin that had gone untouched for days, weeks, months. Lucas worshipped her body with his hands and mouth, making her moan, beg, plead.

Peyton barely comprehended the tearing of fabric, Lucas tossing what had formerly been her panties over his shoulder, she was so consumed by her hunger, her want, her need. She barely recognized Lucas's intent when he grasped her hips, lifted her up, and planted her on the countertop. Not until he pushed her legs wide and fell to his knees did she realize what he was about. Then his mouth touched her intimately and she fell backwards with a silent scream.

Lucas wasn't the type of man to worry just about himself, about his own pleasure, finding his own orgasm. He'd listened to locker room talk in high school, listened to his classmates brag about getting theirs, leaving their girlfriends to find their finish themselves. He always thought it a selfish practice, which was why when he started having sex, he focused on his partner first. The women he was with always appreciated it afterward, like Peyton was appreciating it now. She was moaning and writhing beneath his mouth, her hips thrusting upwards to meet his flicking tongue. He pulled away, kissing her thigh, reveling in her cry of distress.

"You can't just stop!" she cried.

"Of course I can."

Peyton spluttered. But then his mouth was on hers again and there was no further need of her complaints. She laid back and concentrated on what the wild and wicked things Lucas was doing to her with his mouth, reaching and reaching for her climax, caught off-guard when light exploded behind her eyes and her entire body caught on fire.

Her body was still calming down when Lucas lifted her from the countertop, spreading her out beneath him on the floor. "Are you alright?" he asked her, looking at her, a bit perplexed.

"Just having a little trouble catching my breath, is all. I'll be fine." Reaching between them, Peyton enclosed his erection in her fist, enjoying the hissing of Lucas's breath when she squeezed him.

Lucas dropped his head onto her chest as she began to stroke him—hard, steady and slow. _Torturously_ slow. He wouldn't be able to take much more or else he was going to make a cake of himself all over her tiny little hand. When her thumb grazed the head of his shaft, he pushed her hand away. He pushed her hands above her head, holding them in place with one hand while his other took his shaft in hand and pushed inside her.

"Oh, God, _Lucas_!" Peyton cried when Lucas pulled out and slammed back into her. They both moaned with pleasure. Lucas settled more firmly between Peyton's legs as her legs circled his waist and she dug her nails into his back as he thrust inside her over and over again, pushing her toward a climax that had her biting his shoulder to muffle her screams of rapture.

—

Hearing Lucas moving around the room, Peyton stirred from sleep. Her dreams had been filled with recollections of the past night with Lucas, the sex, the conversation. Mostly they were snippets of events that hadn't happened yet… but could—if she asked him to stay, told him that she wanted more. Doing so would leave her vulnerable, open to disappointment if Lucas didn't feel the same.

Peyton searched the darkened room for Lucas; she could hear him moving around, so she knew that he hadn't left—yet. She spotted his silhouette beside the kitchen counter, where he was pulling on his shirt, straightening the collar. "I didn't mean to wake you," she heard him say from across the room.

She turned over, pushing her back up against the headboard, tucking the sheet around herself as she switched on the beside lamp. She rubbed her sleepy eyes, insisting, "It's okay. I wasn't really sleeping anyway."

Lucas approached the bed, sitting down beside her once she scooted over to make room for him. He picked up her hand, brushing a kiss to her knuckles. "I'm leaving this morning, Peyton. To go on tour."

Peyton felt her face fall. _No._ He couldn't be. He didn't look— "You're a musician?" She heard the accusation in her voice and secretly hoped that she was the only one that noticed.

"Hardly," he scoffed, setting her straight quickly. "An author." Lucas watched her visibly brighten. Peyton didn't like musicians. Noted.

"So when you say tour… you mean a book tour?"

Lucas nodded. "This is the last leg of my tour for my most recent book. I'm headed overseas. I'll be gone six weeks." Peyton said nothing in response. "I'd like to see you again when I come back."

Peyton felt her entire body tighten and warm with his words. Last night had been remarkable and she hadn't wanted it to end. She would have let him go, though, if that had been what he'd wanted, if he'd wanted to just turn and walk away. Somewhere between last night and this morning, she'd come to want more, hope that he wanted more, too. Now, she didn't know what she wanted. So, she did what she normally did when something like this happened—she opted for excuses.

"Is that wise?" she asked him. "Wanting more from what was supposed to be a one night stand?" Here was this really great guy, who liked her and wanted to pursue a relationship with her and she was letting her neurosis, her fear of intimacy, interfere. God, she was such a coward. It was no wonder she was alone and miserable.

"No, it probably isn't wise," Lucas agreed. "It's probably stupid as hell, but I just know that if I walk out that door and never look back, I'll always wonder, _What if?_ So, I'm not going to do that—walk away. Instead, I'm going to tell you that I like you and want to see you again. I want to see where this leads, Peyton. If it leads anywhere at all. I mean… if you want to."

A hundred rejections formed on her tongue. She should say no, just tell him to go, that it was best that they end things here. She didn't know much about him, but she wanted to. She wanted to be in a relationship, see it blossom, fall in love… Yes. She wanted the same thing that he did, whether it worked out or not. She had to at least _try_. Her mind made up, she said, "Okay."

"Okay?" Lucas repeated, a little surprised that she'd agreed so readily. He'd been prepared to talk her into it. "Okay. Okay. Well, then. I should go. Because I have a plane to catch," Lucas babbled. He leaned forward to kiss her—a kiss goodbye, a kiss to seal the promise that they'd just spoken—why, he couldn't be sure. Either way, he hadn't anticipated Peyton taking the kiss a step further, pushing her tongue into his mouth, pulling him down on top of her. Her fingers danced across his skin, making him burn. "You're going to make me miss my plane," he told her, breaking the kiss as she pushed his shirt from his shoulders.

"So you'll take a later one."

Objections died on his tongue when she ground herself against his erection. With an invitation like that, how could he refuse?

Lucas let Peyton tease him back under the sheets, ignoring the clock and the incessant ringing of his phone. He wouldn't see her for two months, therefore he wanted to make the most of the time they had together.

When he finally made his way out of her loft four hours later, it was with a huge grin on his face, her email and phone numbers programmed into his Blackberry. Two months was a long time to be apart entering a new relationship, but technology was a great thing, he thought when he received her first text message as he was returning to his hotel: _How do you feel about phone sex?_

Christ.


	2. With You, Without You

Disclaimer: One Tree Hill and its characters belong to Mark Schwahn, The CW, etc. I'm simply whoring them for my own amusement.

Spoilers/Warnings: I'm screwing with pretty much everything in the OTH verse. For now if you've seen S1, you're golden.

Summary: AU. A one night stand blossoms into much more than Lucas and Peyton originally bargained for.

AN: The reviews for this fic have been effing AMAZING. I'm so glad that you guys are liking it. I was a little hesitant posting because Lucas and Peyton were kind of not themselves. But that's the point of AU, to make the characters a little different. Also, those of you that were HAHA NALEY AREN'T TOGETHER YAY made me LOL. Instead of torturing LP like I usually do, I've decided to do that to NH instead.

—

**02. With You, Without You**

Are you going to tell me who or what put that dopey grin on your face?" Brooke Davis asked her best friend, looking across the table at Peyton who couldn't stop smiling. It was a welcome change from the career driven, lonely, woe-is-me Peyton that she'd gotten used to over the years.

She'd flown to L.A. for a business meeting so her and Peyton had gathered for a late lunch before her return flight to New York later that afternoon. Brooke had noticed the difference in Peyton the second she'd spotted her across the room, entering the restaurant. She walked straighter, with a little skip in her step, an obnoxious grin plastered on her face. It was as if—and the notion was disconcerting—as if she was in love.

Both of them had been so busy at work that they hadn't had as much time to talk on the phone and email and texts conveyed absolutely nothing, aside from what was in print. Now that they were face to face, Brooke could tell that Peyton kept trying to disguise her apparent joy. She was curious what had brought on the change.

Peyton dug into her salad, insisting, "What dopey grin? There's no grin, dopey or otherwise." Frowning at the lack of salt on her salad, she reached for the shaker, but Brooke scooped it up, withholding it.

"You don't get the salt shaker until you tell me who he is and why you haven't mentioned him before."

Peyton groaned, even as she put her fork down, picked up her glass of wine and sat back in her chair. "Do I have to?" There was no point in denying that there was a man in her life; Brooke had known her long enough to know when she was lying.

"Didn't I tell you about that moment of utter stupidity with Victoria's assistant?"

"Yes, but I found Heath completely adorable. I couldn't believe that you didn't pursue that."

Brooke shrugged, not wanting to think about her mother scaring away yet another man that she was interested in. "Couldn't. Before I knew it Heath had been fired and replaced with some bubbly twenty year old who eats her hair. But we're not talking about me, much as you'd love to distract me with talk about my utter lack of a love life. Spill it."

Refusing was useless, Peyton realized. "Fine. Okay. His name is Lucas."

Brooke's hand shot out, pointing her index finger at Peyton, declaring, "Ah-ha! I knew it was a guy."

"Don't make a big deal of it, Brooke."

"Why not? It is a big deal. You haven't been this gonzo over a guy since… since he who will not be named." As a rule they didn't bring up Jake. Since him, Peyton hadn't had an honest to God relationship—and the mistake that had been Jake had happened forever ago, in high school.

Peyton had been happy to casually date, hooking up for random sex dates (though not many because Peyton was a serial monogamist), but that had been the extent of her relationships. No matter what Peyton did, how hard she tried, something always went wrong, prompting Peyton to bury herself in music, her work, the only relationship she needed, Brooke remembered Peyton telling her once.

Taking a sip of her wine, Peyton regretted the decision not to have a Vodka and 7 like Brooke. She could use something with a little more burn to it. Especially if she was going to have _this_ conversation with Brooke. "It's new and… and, well, he's out of the country for a little while."

Brooke mulled over that vague little explanation for a moment. "I'm going to refrain from judgment until you give me all the details."

Peyton knew there was no getting around Brooke when she was adamant about something, especially if that something was the new man in her best friend's life. Brooke would badger her until she told all. "Fine. You remember that event we went to the last time you were in town?"

"Yeah. You had just signed that new girl to the label. You used my clothes for her album's cover art." Brooke quickly caught the drift. "You met him there," she realized, her lips tipping into a smile. "You deserted me with all those boring fops so that you could go have sex with a hot piece of mancandy? It better have been worth it."

Feeling her face flame, Peyton touched her cheeks, murmuring, "Oh, it _was_," Brooke following her movements tenaciously.

"So, why's there a big thing? You like him, don't you?" Before Peyton could open her mouth to say otherwise, Brooke cut her off, saying, "And don't even think about trying to deny it, Peyton Sawyer." Brooke meant business when she started using the full name.

Defeated, Peyton heaved a long sigh, hating that her best friend knew her so well. "Everyone I've been with since Jake… I never wanted anything more. I mean, I did because we all want our Cinderella story. And ultimately that's what I want—the fairytale. But the relationships didn't last. Something always went wrong."

"How was Lucas different?" Brooke asked, her curiosity getting the best of her. She wanted to know everything she could about this mysterious and magical Lucas. Because he had to be a wand wielding Harry Potter-type if he got Peyton to get past her relationship issues.

"With Lucas, it wasn't just sex. We honestly liked each other. That night when we left together, it was supposed to be just that—just sex. But I don't know… we talked. Most of it was flirtation, but later… we had real conversation. And in the morning, neither of us wanted it to end there. We're going to start dating when he comes home."

"So. Mr. Mancandy? Where is he now anyway?"

"England," Peyton answered flatly.

"You slept with an Englishman?" Brooke asked, surprised. After all, she was the one with the accent fetish. How had Peyton kept a delicious morsel that talked with a British accent to herself? And did he have a brother?

Peyton shot Brooke a disgruntled look. "Of course I didn't sleep with an Englishman. You know those accents do nothing for me. That's your thing. No, Lucas is an author. He's on his book tour. Right now he's in England, his first stop is in Brighton. At least I think that's what his itinerary said."

"Oh," Brooke gasped, taken aback. Normally Peyton was attracted to musicians or producers, those who were in the same business as she was. Authors were… well, they were just different—but a good different. They were more a hell of a lot better than freaking musicians in her book, that was for sure. "Do you know what he writes? If he's any good?"

"I went to the bookstore after I Googled him and—"

"—you _Googled_ him?" Brooke cut in, amused that Peyton had done such a thing. She made a mental note to get this guy's name so that she could do some Googling herself, make sure that he was good enough for Peyton. Not that Peyton would weigh her opinion. Peyton had completely ignored her when she'd expressed her concern (and disdain) for Jake Jagielski. How that farce of a relationship had lasted two and a half years, she'd never know.

Peyton continued, ignoring Brooke altogether, "Anyway, once I realized that he was the same Lucas Scott—which I should have known since we were at the same party— I went to the bookstore. There was a display of his books and an announcement that he'd be ending his book tour there. I overheard this group of girls talking about how awesome he was and how they couldn't wait until his next book."

"He must be something."

"He's something alright," Peyton mumbled. She had liked Lucas—_liked_ Lucas. He wasn't the atypical L.A. celebrity, oozing charm over a façade of self-involvement. He was charming, but his charm was genuine; he wasn't so because he wanted something from her, like those that had come before him. The feeling had been mutual and those feelings had developed into more over the past few weeks over their long phone conversations and in-depth emails. He needed to come back soon—she was starting to miss him.

"So… what now? You wait for him to get back?"

"I guess," Peyton said, not bothering to tell Brooke that it wasn't like she didn't talk to Lucas. He'd only been gone three weeks and they'd talked at least three times a day, if not more.

Brooke felt it was her duty to point out, "A lot can happen in two months, Peyton. He could meet some British babe and fall head over feet and you… you could get hit by a bus tomorrow."

"Hey!" Peyton complained, "Why do I have to be the dead one in your scenario?"

Brooke flashed her a wicked smile. "For all I know you're lying to me about Lucas being English and therefore if you die, I can have him for myself."

Peyton balled up her napkin, throwing it at Brooke. "I'm aware of just how much can happen in two months. If women can wait for their husbands to return from war for _years_, I can wait a few weeks for Lucas to come back from signing books."

"What a mature perspective," Brooke commented as her Blackberry went off in her purse. "Sorry, sorry," she apologized to Peyton as she fished her phone out of her purse.

Waving it off, Peyton told her, "Work doesn't stop just because you're out to lunch."

"She did it again," Brooke murmured, staring down at her Blackberry, aghast. Stuffing it back into her purse, she told Peyton as she reached for her glass, "Victoria rescheduled my flight. I need to get to the airport. _Now._"

Both women stood up. "Remind me again why my mother works for me? I must have been insane when I made that executive decision. There's no getting rid of her now." As they hugged, Brooke murmured in Peyton's ear, "See this is why you should've come to work for me. I wouldn't be suffering with my mother, I'd have you instead."

Leaning back, Peyton started, "Brooke—"

"I know, I know," she assured Peyton with a wave of her hand. "I like clothes, you like music. We probably would've killed one another in a month anyway."

"A week," Peyton corrected, teasing Brooke with a wink.

"Good luck with Lucas."

"And you with Victoria."

Brooke snorted. "I'll need it."

Peyton watched Brooke walk away, wondering how different her life would be if she'd taken up Brooke's offer and became her partner in Clothes Over Bros. Her life would've been decidedly different, of that she had no doubt. But it was what it was and there was no point weighing what could have been. She liked her job, her life. Besides if she'd taken the job, chances were she never would have met Lucas.

As if realizing that she was thinking about him, she received a text message from the man himself: _Signing over. Raining outside. So bored. Wish you were here_.

Peyton reread the message twice more, her mind awhirl, contemplating the unthinkable. She could either sit back and let her pseudo-relationship with him fall apart or she could do something to ensure its longevity.

Placing a call to her office, Peyton tapped her foot anxiously as she awaited the call to connect. Her assistant picked up on the second ring, prompt as always. "Gigi," she said, before the girl could get her greeting out, "check my schedule. I want to see if I have anything pressing in the next week or two. I think I might take a vacation."

—

_Four weeks later…_

Arriving in front of the bookstore, Peyton took a moment to ogle the cardboard cutout of Lucas that stood on the sidewalk, advertising the hours of his signing. Finishing off her coffee, she threw it into the trashcan, following a group of young girls into the obscure bookstore.

She made her way through rows and rows of books, eager to see Lucas, but not wanting to _seem_ too eager. She had a right to be there as a reader (though, she didn't really do that unless MySpace pages counted) and as Lucas Scott's girlfriend (yes, she most definitely _was_). Still, she procrastinated, picking up random books while waiting for the line to shorten. Twenty minutes later, Peyton made her way toward the signing table that Lucas was manning.

Book in hand, Peyton approached the table where her author-boyfriend sat signing books, immersed in conversation with the woman in line before her. "My daughter loves you," the woman was telling Lucas. "Are you single?" the woman asked on her next breath. Peyton disguised her giggle with a cough, the action drawing Lucas's attention. He caught her eye, obviously pleased to see her by the broadening of his smile.

His flight out of Paris had been delayed due to a storm therefore he'd been later than scheduled. By the time his plane had landed, he'd had to go straight to the bookstore for his signing, spoiling their dinner plans. He'd sent her a text notifying her of his arrival back in L.A., so she'd left work early and come to surprise him. Plus, she just didn't trust that he'd bring her a copy of his book as promised.

"No," Lucas told the woman, handing her back the signed copy of his book, catching Peyton's eye. "I'm not single."

Deflated, the woman took her book and walked away. Peyton stepped forward, slowly, handing Lucas her book, feigning an overzealous fan. "I love your writing, Mr. Scott. It's so… Gosh, what is the word I'm looking for?" she asked, touching her chin with her finger.

"I think the word you're looking for, miss, is _deep_," he whispered, emphasizing the word, knowing that it was innuendo.

Peyton smiled knowingly as Lucas scribbled something in her book. She told him, "No, that is most definitely not the word I had in mind. Maybe the right one will come to me later," throwing around a little innuendo of her own. Getting serious, she asked him, "Does that happen often? Mothers trying to hook you up with their daughters?"

"More often than you would think," he said, closing the book, handing it to her. "The majority of the time, it's the single girls hitting on me, casually slipping in their number so that I see it when I open the book to sign."

"That sounds completely awful," she remarked, jealousy gripping her with its claws. She didn't want to think about girls approaching him at book signings, low-cut shirts, heaving bosom, insistent on bedding the successful and intelligent Lucas Scott. _Her_ Lucas Scott. The second that little overture entered her brain she squashed with the three inch heel of her boot. "How do you bear it?"

Lucas shrugged, leaning forward to whisper, "It's kind of a turn on when a beautiful woman hits on me." He touched her hand softly, briefly. After all, it was how _they'd_ met. Although there'd been some confusion as to who did the actual picking up, he insisted it was her.

"Are you almost finished here?" Peyton asked, ready to have him to herself. Tonight was his first back in the States and she intended to make it worth his while—hers too.

Lucas inspected his watch. "I'll probably be a half-hour more. An hour, tops. I'll pick up dinner and meet you at your place."

As she walked away, Peyton opened her book to read what Lucas had wrote. She stopped, making sure that she wasn't smiling when she turned to look back at him. He was watching her intently, apparently waiting on her reaction. "You gave me your number."

"Yes," he answered simply. "I also gave you leave to call me. Don't forget that."

"Thank you." She tucked the book under her arm. "I should give this to one of your adoring fans."

"What, you don't adore me?"

Peyton glowered menacingly, then spun on her heel and began making her way toward the checkout counter.

Once outside with her book tucked away in a brown bag, she pulled out her phone, dialing Luke's number, making use of the number he'd so generously given her. Again. He picked up on the fourth ring. "Lucas? Hey. It's Peyton."

"Peyton. Peyton," he repeated. "I don't think I know a Peyton. Oh. Wait! Are you the girl that just hit on me in the bookstore?"

"Ugh and to think I actually _liked_ you. I'm totally throwing this book in the trashcan, but tearing out your number and selling it to some gossip rags. Within a few days all those single girls that you brushed off will be calling you up, waxing poetic about your eyes and your arms and your—"

Lucas warned, "Finish that sentence and you'll be sorry."

"Promises, promises." Peyton just laughed and shut her phone.

—

It was over an hour later when Lucas finally arrived at Peyton's studio. He had barely made it across the threshold before Peyton threw herself at him, smothering him with kisses, yanking at his belt with an intensity that both surprised and aroused him. The Chinese food that he'd picked up from the little restaurant that he liked, fell to the floor, forgotten in favor of more pleasurable pursuits.

"You said something about making me sorry?" Peyton reminded him, sliding her hands into his boxers, enclosing him in her warm, tight fist.

Spinning her around, Lucas pushed Peyton against the door, albeit a little harder than he'd intended. Her head scraped against the wood. "Sorry."

Peyton didn't mind. "I like being manhandled," she told him, pulling his earlobe between her teeth.

"God, I've needed to get my hands on you for weeks." A little roughly, Lucas grabbed her legs, hoisting her up; Peyton's legs scissored around his waist, her ankles locking behind his back. Lucas slid his hands up her thighs, slipping beneath the flowy fabric of her skirt—holy hell. She wasn't wearing panties. "Well. Is this a new thing?" he asked, touching her, barely, with a fingertip. "Something you picked up in Europe?"

"I knew you were coming. I wanted to be ready. But I figured it'd be kind of slutty to answer the door naked."

"Not slutty. Preferable," he corrected, pushing a finger inside her, finding her delightfully wet and ready for him. With his pants already partially undone, it was easy to get them out of the way so that he could plunge into her, Peyton digging her nails into his forearms at his hard thrust.

She met his every drive with an anticipatory tilt of her hips that had him hitting an angle that made Peyton purr every time their bodies met. Reaching between them, he quickly found her clit with his finger, touching deftly, softly, until she was pushing down on his hand, moaning, "Harder, Luke." He was happy to oblige her, fingering her with an added pressure, satisfied when she contracted around him, her scream of rapture swallowed by his mouth as he followed with a climax his own.

They remained where they were as they tried to recapture their breathing. Lucas pushed Peyton's hair out of her face, a few of which were plastered to her flushed cheeks. "I think our food's cold," he said, staring down at the overturned bag at their feet.

"I have a microwave. I think it works," Peyton added as an afterthought.

Lucas nodded, uncompelled to disengage his body from hers. He like the feel of her warm body beneath his hands, the constant beat of her heart thumping under his palm. This was the real beginning, a test to see if they could maintain a relationship, prove that it wasn't just about sex. Though, that was definitely a perk. The growling of Peyton's stomach, jolted his mind from the dangerous place it was venturing. "Hungry?" he asked, amused.

"Starving actually." She winced. "And I have a cramp in my leg. Owowow."

Lucas pulled out of her, and slowly set her down on her feet. Tucking himself back into his pants, he watched Peyton smooth down her skirt, scoop their dinner off the floor and carry it to the kitchen. He pulled off his tie, his belt, draping both over the sofa. He started unbuttoning his shirt when Peyton stunned him silent, proposing, "You should stay here. You know, instead of your hotel. I mean, it's just more convenient."

"Convenient?"

Peyton laughed that off. "That's not… what I mean. I mean, I want you here. I don't want you to have to leave." She sighed, realizing that she was trying to say something very simply and was mucking it up with her nervous rambling. "I want you to stay."

Lucas circled the counter, kissed her cheek, and whispered, "Then, I'll stay."

—

Later that night, Lucas held Peyton in his arms, reveling in the silence, of being with her again. It had been ridiculous to propose starting a relationship when he was going on tour, but he didn't want to think about losing her, letting something special slip away due to prior commitments. They'd made a real, honest effort to make a relationship work with phone calls and emails and dirty texts.

Then, after four weeks, she surprised him in Florence, appearing at his hotel with a small carry-on and a smile, explaining, "I've never been to Italy. I thought now would be a good time to visit."

She'd stayed with him for five days, tagging along with him from Florence to his last stop in Italy—Venice—before she'd been called back to work earlier than scheduled. He'd been sad to see her go, but they'd stayed in touch and those five days together had helped solidify their relationship.

"I missed you, you know," Peyton murmured, tracing circles on his chest with a fingernail. She didn't want to be saying these things, feeling these things, but in the past she'd made a habit of running from her feelings. She wasn't going to do that anymore. Lucas had come to mean too much to her for her to let her stupid insecurities to muck it all up. Lucas turned his head to face her. "That's crazy, right?"

"No, not crazy," he whispered, touching her cheek. "I missed you, too, Peyton. I tried to focus on my signings, on the work that had to be done, but my mind always turned to you. I wondered where you were, what you were doing, who you were with… if you were thinking about me, too."

She made a sound of distress. "It's all happening so fast, Lucas."

A moment of panic rendered him silent as the heavy weight of Peyton's words settled over him. They'd been moving at an accelerated rate since the moment they'd met. He hadn't stop to think about her feelings, thinking that she was as caught up in their romance as he was. Evidently, fear and doubt was beginning to plague Peyton. "Do you want to slow things down? Because we can do that."

"No!" she exclaimed vehemently. Hearing the shrill sound of her voice, she gentled her tone. "No. This is all new for me. I'm not used to feeling so much, so strongly, so fast. It's leaving me a little..." She didn't finish the sentence; there was a laundry list of adjectives for what she was left feeling.

"So we'll slow things down," Lucas said, unflinchingly. "I have no problem with that."

"You don't?" Peyton asked, surprised.

"I'm not completely heartless, you know." He would do whatever she asked him, as long as it didn't involve her kicking him out of her life. Because that he just would not settle for. He liked her, she liked him, it would be stupid for them to not explore their relationship further, see where it led. If it led them apart, then so be it, but they at least had to _try_.

She leaned over, distributing kisses to his cheeks, one to the other, then down his neck. "You're almost perfect, Lucas." Peyton slipped out of the bed, picking up the shirt that he had discarded earlier, pulling it over her head.

"Almost perfect?" he questioned, eyebrow quirked.

She told him as she crossed the room to the bathroom, "Well, the perfect man would be a dud. You know, a rule follower, completely unadventurous in bed, all work and no play. So not the man for me." She winked at him before she disappeared into the bathroom.

Lucas had just laid back on the pillows, ready to welcome sleep, when he heard his phone ringing. He fumbled around the floor for his pants, fishing his phone out of his pocket. He looked down at the display, frowning. Something had to have happened for his mother to be calling him at this hour. "Hello?" he answered, schooling himself for bad news.

"Lucas, it's Mom," came his mother's voice across the line, distracted, distant; she sounded as if she'd been crying.

"What's going on?" he asked, concerned.

"Your dad… he… he's had another heart attack, Lucas."

He barely registered Peyton coming out of the bathroom, the bed dipping, signaling her return. He thought of his dad's last heart attack, how paralyzing the thought was of losing his father. They hadn't always been close, but he'd turned his life around, made up from some bad choices. Now Lucas couldn't imagine his life without his father. "How is he? What do the doctors say?"

"They're not telling me much. Dr. Blanchard is already talking surgery…" She started sobbing anew, making him wish that he was there to comfort and console her.

He managed to calm her down, but not before she said his name—just his name, but with a question mark poised behind it, like people were wont to do. Lucas knew what was coming. She was going to ask him to go home and fill in for his dad while he was laid up in the hospital. _Like the last time._

Lucas had had to take a semester off of college the last time his dad's heart had failed. He'd had to step in at the car dealership while Nathan continued to attend classes, play basketball, following his dream to play for the NBA. At the time, Lucas had begrudged his brother the opportunity, hating being forced to step in because he was the oldest, because his dreams weren't as important as Nathan's, because his HCM prevented him from seeking a professional basketball career.

"Mom—" he started to object, glancing coyly at Peyton over his shoulder.

"Your dad was so proud of the job you did the last time. _Please_, Lucas."

He sighed, hating being guilted into doing something, especially when it was for his family—he was obligated. "Fine. I'll be there in a day or two." He snapped his phone shut, pushing it onto the nightstand. He dropped his head into his hands, dreading what he was going to have to do, that he was the one whose lap responsibility fell into.

"What's going on?" Peyton scooted behind him, kissing his back, wrapping her arms around his middle.

"My dad's in the hospital."

"Is he okay?" she asked automatically. Lucas hadn't spoken much about his family and what he had said she hadn't been able to discern much.

Lucas shook his head. "No." He felt Peyton drop her head onto his back, her even breathing tickling his skin.

"So you have to leave?"

Lucas didn't have to leave, but family obligation was forcing him to, much to his utter annoyance. "I don't want to leave, believe me. Since my Dad is laid up in the hospital, his car dealership is in need of someone to step in. He doesn't trust any of his employees so it's left to me to look over things there for a few weeks while he recovers. God forbid they summon the golden child from the pros." Lucas nudged her back, stretching out beside her on the bed. "Peyton, we don't have to discuss this now."

"It's okay. I want to." She placated him with a smile. "How long will you be gone?"

Lucas took a deep breath. As if their relationship wasn't complicated and fragile enough. "Don't know. A few weeks, maybe. At most, a few months."

She nodded her head, taking it all in. She didn't want to see him leave again, but what choice did either of them have? His dad was sick and he was a good son. God, he was making it so easy for her to fall for him. She kind of hated him for it. "We got through the last two months, didn't we? We'll make it through this."

They both heard the catch in her voice, recognized the note of pessimism that accompanied it. Yet, neither of them broached the subject further, intent to pretend that things weren't about to change. At least not until the morning.

—

Peyton was on her way to the studio when her doorbell rang, vibrating through her loft. She groaned, having to stop in her quest to locate her keys. Dropping her purse on the sofa, she moved toward the door as it flew open and Lucas exploded into the room. "What are you doing here?" she gasped at the same time he blurted, "You should come with me."

"What? Where?" she asked in a flurry of words. He was supposed to be on a flight home right now. What the hell was he doing? She had made peace with the fact that he was leaving again, that their relationship was going to hinge on technology was once again, that she was going to have a more intimate relationship with her vibrator than him.

"You've told me before that you can work anywhere as long as you have your cell and your laptop. _Come with me_… back home."

Home for Lucas was some backwater town in one of the Carolinas. Tree… something. A world away. There could only be one reason why he wanted her to accompany him home. Peyton moved from the door, giving Lucas her back. "You want me to meet your family?"

"That's not the only reason." She heard the door shut, his footsteps approaching. "I got the feeling the other night that you were pulling away, that you were giving up. And I just feel that if I leave for God knows how long that I'll lose you, that we'll lose this." He took hold of her arms, turning her around, pulling her closer. "You made do while you were Italy," he reminded her.

His offer was tempting and she _could_ work from anywhere, if need be. Besides, if his dad's condition somehow worsened she'd want to be there with him, for him. "What if your mom doesn't like me?"

Lucas rolled his eyes. "How could she not? It's inconceivable."

Peyton wasn't swayed by that in the least. "Cute. But it's a possibility."

"Of course. But if either of my parents is going to hate you, it's going to be my dad." Lucas gathered her close, wrapping his arms around her. "So, you'll come with me?"

She acquiesced with a nod of her head. "I'll have to stop by my office, pick up a few things, make a few arrangements."

"Okay. I'll reschedule the flight for late this afternoon." Lucas dug his cell phone out of his pocket and as he was dialing the airline, he looked over at Peyton. She was pulling a suitcase out of her closet, her ponytail swinging behind her head with her every move.

His mother would absolutely adore her, of that he had no doubt. His dad was usually neutral, one way or the other, usually liking the girlfriends that his mother did. No, his parents weren't a problem.

It was his brother he had to worry about.


	3. Sound Effects & Overdramatics

Disclaimer: One Tree Hill and its characters belong to Mark Schwahn, The CW, etc. I'm simply whoring them for my own amusement.

Spoilers/Warnings: I'm screwing with pretty much everything in the OTH verse. For now if you've seen S1, you're golden.

Summary: AU. A one night stand blossoms into much more than Lucas and Peyton originally bargained for.

AN: Sorry for the long lapse in updates. School started and then I had computer trouble and things were just bad all around. Reading back through all the reviews, everyone is eager to see what's the what between Lucas and Nathan. I'll tell you this, the relationship that you'll see throughout this fic between Lucas/Nathan is very reminiscent of S1. Also, this chapter contains a few slight S2 spoilers. Character wise. Enjoy!

—

**03.** **Sound Effects & Overdramatics**

Peyton's first thought as Lucas entered the city was that Tree Hill was homely and peaceful, much different from Los Angeles, with its rundown buildings and obvious love for high school basketball. It wasn't bustling or busy, but therein laid its charm. She liked it immediately, though panicked a tad when she realized that there wasn't a Starbucks in sight.

All during the flight she had questioned her sanity in deciding to come here with Lucas, meeting his friends and family, burrowing herself further into his life. They barely knew each other and here she was, entering his life, preparing to meet his family. It was daunting, scary. Although, she still had a few reservations, she was adamant about making this relationship work, refusing to compare it to previous ones, let the train wrecks before haunt her. She was going to make this relationship work—she liked Lucas too much to let it fail.

The first stop they made was at the hospital. Peyton expected it, but wasn't quite prepared for the meeting of the parents—not before she had a chance to brush her teeth, refresh her makeup and fluff her hair, at any rate. As Lucas drove around looking for a parking spot, she used the time to check her reflection, frowning at her haggard appearance. She pinched her cheeks to put some color on her face, swiped some lipstick on and ran her nails through her hair.

"You look fine," Lucas told her as he pulled into a parking space and turned off the car.

"Fine," she huffed after he'd climbed out. Of course he'd say that—he wasn't the one about to make the first impression. For Pete's sake she had bags under her eyes!

Lucas helped her out of the SUV, taking her hand as they made their way across the parking lot and into the building. She let him pull her around, obviously having been through this before since he seemed to know where he was going. When they reached the third floor, he stopped at the nurse's station inquiring, "I'm looking for Dan Scott."

The nurse typed the name into her computer, pointing to the hallway behind her, saying, "Room 316, honey."

Peyton squeezed his hand, nothing that his steps had slowed as they made their way down the hallway. Outside the room, Lucas stopped, staring at the closed door. "I could stand out here if you'd like," she offered, feeling the need to give him his space, his privacy. Plus, she was attempting to delay the inevitable, a fact that she had no doubt that Lucas was aware of.

Shaking his head, Lucas told her, "No. That's not necessary." He inhaled deeply, gearing himself up. "Are you ready to meet the clan?" Peyton took a deep breath of her own, then nodded. _As ready as I'll ever be_, she thought as Lucas tugged her forward.

Pushing open the door, Lucas led the way into the room. It was swathed in darkness and smelled like alcohol and antibacterial. "Mom?" Lucas called, his grip on Peyton's hand loosening.

"Lucas?" came a soft voice from somewhere in the room.

Dropping her hand, Lucas crossed the room, enveloping a short, dark haired woman in his arms, soothing her with comforting words, a warm brush of his hand across her back. _His mother._ The way Lucas handled his mother made her hate him. He was tearing down her defenses with everything he did, from putting down the toilet seat to opening her car doors. But this? The way he treated his mother… the man was begging her to fall at his feet and hand him her heart—which she was about two blinks from doing.

"How is he?" Lucas inquired, looking over his mother's head at his father's still form. He'd been here once before and hadn't like it then either. No one liked to see their parents laid up in a hospital bed for any reason whatsoever ever, more so whenever it involved heart complications.

Karen stepped away, brushing her watery eyes with the back of her hand. "He's stable." She circled the bed as she told her son, "The doctors are going to monitor him closely and then they'll decide what kind of action to take." Karen rearranged Dan's blankets, pushed a strand of hair from his forehead. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the movement, noticed that Lucas wasn't alone, that he'd brought a girl with him. She stilled, and straightened. "Well, hello," she said to the girl, shooting a reproving look to her son. Where the hell were his manners?

Peyton lifted up her hand, giving Lucas's mother an awkward wave, instantly regretting the ridiculous move. What was she—fifteen? God. "Hello, Mrs. Scott." She stepped forward beside Lucas, his arm outstretched toward her, trying to mask his grin.

"Mom, this is Peyton." Lucas pulled Peyton against him so there wasn't a misunderstanding, that she didn't come to the conclusion that Peyton was a platonic friend or a casual acquaintance. Instead, he was making sure that his mother knew that Peyton was someone special, that she meant something to him. A significant something. More than he cared to admit, actually.

"Hello, Peyton," Karen told the girl. Then to her son: "Lucas, you didn't tell me that you were bringing someone home with you." She shook her finger at him, tsk-tsking him. If he had warned her, she may have put on some makeup, fixed her hair. She wasn't usually so… sloppy. Circumstances being what they were had led her to neglect her vanity.

"It was a spur of the moment thing, Mom. Peyton and I just… this is new and I didn't want to risk her finding someone else if I was going to be here longer than a few weeks."

Karen observed her son intently, noting the coy looks and smiles he sent the girl on his arm, the way his thumb caressed the inside of Peyton's wrist. Well. This was a promising development. She had despaired of Lucas every settling down, especially after the whole situation a few years ago. But obviously he'd bounced back and she couldn't help her happiness.

"Can I...?" Karen circled the bed to Peyton. "Do you mind if I hug you?"

Peyton was alarmed for a moment, but then concurred, "Sure. Okay."

Karen hugged her son's new girlfriend as he mouthed over her shoulder, _What the hell, Mom?_ She stuck her tongue at him while he threw his hands up in exasperation.

After a moment, Karen took a step back, a little sheepish. "Was that awkward? It was awkward, wasn't it?"

"A little, yeah," Peyton confessed, though secretly she was a little relieved to be so well received. She didn't have a good track record with mothers. Every time she met one it all went to hell in a hand basket. Jake's mom had _hated_ her, starting the trend. There was nothing that she could have done to make that woman like her.

Then again, maybe it wasn't her at all. Maybe the mothers before were just bitter old housewives who couldn't tolerate anyone else being happy. Karen seemed happy. After all, none of her ex-boyfriends' mothers had ever hugged her.

"Sorry. I get overemotional sometimes," Karen told her. "Besides, it's been a while since Lucas has brought a girl home—" she added, casting a knowing glance at Lucas.

Abruptly, Lucas cut her off with a curt, "Mom!" The woman was so ecstatic that he was dating again that if he didn't stop her she would divulge something that he'd rather she didn't. Bringing Peyton home had been a whirlwind decision, but it was one he hadn't made lightly. He knew sometime during the duration of their stay she would ask questions, she would discover things—he just hoped to delay that at least a day.

Karen held up her hands, knowing when to be quiet. "Okay. Alright. I won't say any more," she guaranteed. "Except that I'm really grateful that you've moved past everything," she added quickly.

Lucas closed his eyes, suppressing a groan. He felt Peyton's eyes on him, questioning. Luckily, his father chose that moment to wake up and intervene with a raspy, "Lucas...? Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me."

Peyton and Karen stepped back so that Lucas could approach the bed, pulling up a chair. He sat down and immediately started conversing with his dad, inquiring about his condition, if he was comfortable, if he needed anything. Peyton watched agog, his concern over his father's welfare tugging at her heartstrings.

"Are they close?" Peyton whispered to Karen, now more curious than ever about Lucas and his familial relationships. Neither of them had been too forthcoming in regards to their families. Until his mother's phone call, she hadn't known if his parents were even alive, much less still married.

"They are now." Peyton was glad that Karen didn't expound on that. She'd rather get the dish from Lucas himself, have him trust her enough to confide in her and tell her all about his life. For the first time since she was nineteen she wanted a _relationship_.

Peyton moved closer to Lucas, catching the tail end of his conversation with his father. "... she's pretty." She snapped to attention, immediately reaching the realization that the two men had been discussing _her_. What had they said? She wondered.

"She's standing right there. I think she can hear you," Lucas whispered to his father, relieved that his dad had reacted positively toward Peyton. Commenting on how pretty his girlfriend was always happened to be a good sign. Not that that would matter, but he knew when his father disapproved of the person he was dating. Dan Scott made his opinion known and usually not delicately.

"She couldn't until your mom stopped talking to her," Dan pointed out ruefully, looking past his son, at his wife. Karen rolled her eyes, but ignored him good naturedly, just like she always did. Sometimes he couldn't help but wonder why the hell she put up with him. God knew that he hadn't always treated her as she deserved. He had treated her hellishly after she'd told him that she was pregnant with Lucas. He still didn't understand how she could forgive--much less marry him--after he'd suggested abortion. She was a gem, his Karen.

Lucas grabbed for Peyton's hand, but it was already occupied, holding his dad's. "How are you, Mr. Scott?" she inquired, patting his dad's hand.

True to form, Dan Scott did what he did best—he flirted. It was harmless, but it was _fun_. Besides, what else could he do besides lay in bed, watch ESPN and bark orders and insults at the nursing staff? "Better now that you're here," Dan said, pulling her hand to his lips to kiss it, enjoying the looks of exasperation on the faces of his wife and son.

"Mom, get his leash," Lucas demanded when a blush colored Peyton's face; he could tell that she was enjoying the attention.

Karen stepped forward to appease her son. "Alright, Casanova, cool your heels," she told her husband, though it was good to see him enjoying himself. He'd been heeing and hawing since his admittance to the hospital. Not that she could blame him; she wasn't a big fan of hospitals either.

She'd known Lucas would bring Dan around, curb his cranky disposition. It was why she always turned to him first. Dan and Lucas hadn't always had an easy go of it, but it had gotten easier over the years. When in each other's company, the two were inseparable. Also, intolerable.

"The nurses aren't pretty, Lucas," Dan complained. "How can a man get better when he's poked and prodded by bears? Nobody wants to be jostled by a bear."

Lucas started to laugh, but disguised it with a cough into his fist when his mother sent him a withering look. "Don't encourage him," Karen warned her son, then told her husband, "Behave yourself," gesturing to Peyton.

"I have a bad heart, Karen. I'm not dead. Yet." He turned away before he could see Karen's eyes, allow her to send him one of those pitying looks that he'd become accustomed to since his last heart attack. His heart might not be up to snuff, but dammit the rest of him was. He smiled broadly at Peyton as his wife sat down beside him on the bed. "So, how long are you in town?"

She shrugged, casting a coy glance in Lucas' direction. "Until Lucas gets tired of me, I guess… or the other way around."

"As if he could."

Peyton was charming his father, Lucas noted, standing back to let her work her magic. He stood there silently, watching as his parents became enthralled with Peyton. Within minutes they were hanging on her every word, inquiring about her job, who she was and where she came from. Lucas despaired of them ever stopping until they blessedly abandoned the subject of Peyton in favor of acquring juicy tidbits about some of the artists on her label.

He let them badger Peyton with question after question until he'd reached his breaking point and quickly put an end to their interrogation. "We should get going," he announced abruptly, taking everyone in the room off guard, Peyton especially. She gave him a look that told him she wasn't ready to end the casual rapport that she was sharing with his parents.

"Now? We just got here." Peyton wasn't ready to go yet. She had to admit that she was enjoying talking to his parents. They had taken an interest in her—in her life—that her father hadn't taken since her mother had died. It was a fact that saddened her, but she'd learned to deal with it.

"Dad needs his rest and you're getting him excited." At Peyton's blush, he grabbed her arm and swung her toward the door.

Peyton ignored him and geared herself up to say her goodbyes when Dan surprised them both by saying, "What are you doing with him anyway? I know he's my son, but you could do better. A lot better."

Smothering a laugh as Lucas scowled at his father, she insisted with a jab to his side, "I don't know. He's okay."

"You really think so?"

"You are both _hilarious_," Lucas deadpanned. To Peyton, he said, "Can we go now? I mean, if you're done making nice with the enemy." He scowled at his dad, albeit good-naturedly.

Dan waved them away, grumbling, "Yeah, yeah. I had enough of you anyway. Peyton, don't let Lucas keep you away. You come back and see me."

Before Peyton could say that she already planned to do just that, Lucas pulled her from the room at the same time a nurse entered it.

—

Lucas kept casting glances at Peyton as he drove them away from the hospital. She had been quiet ever since they'd left his father's room—the never-ending questions, the ceaseless interrogation. Surprisingly she hadn't complained or vented her frustration at his mother's initial reactio to her or the probing questions that his dad had posed. Lucas didn't know whether to be relieved or alarmed. Shouldn't a woman have an opinion on her boyfriend's parents?

He reached across the seat, taking her hand. "Hey. You okay?" he asked, concerned by her silence.

Peyton turned her head to give him a reassuring smile. "I'm fine. Really good, actually."

Lucas didn't buy that, not for a second. "You seem... I don't know, distracted."

"No, no. I'm just trying to process everything."

Lucas gleaned what he wanted from that, immediately rushing to apologize for his parents. "He's not usually like that—my dad. He just gets a bit of cabin fever whenever he's confined to a bed so he finds ways to amuse himself. His target today was you. You were like a shiny new toy for him."

"He didn't bother me, Lucas. To be honest, I thought he was kind of charming. I saw a lot of you in him." She fell silent for a moment. "Your parents... They seem... Happy."

"They are. It's kind of sickening sometimes to see just how happy they are." Lucas cast Peyton a quick glance. "You sound surprised."

Peyton admitted, "I'm not used to seeing happy couples. My parents were happy at one time I guess... Mostly I saw my dad date one wrong woman after the other in a vain attempt to get past losing my mom. Maybe that's why I can't have a happy, healthy relationship. I didn't have good role models."

"Maybe it was just your relationship partners," Lucas offered.

"Maybe so." Peyton looked out the window, saw that they were whizzing by the beach. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"It's kind of personal."

"If it's too personal I'll let you know."

Peyton bit her lip, taking a moment to wonder if this was a wise topic of conversation. Then again she was the one that broached the subject in the first place; it was too late to turn back now, the question more or less already presented. "Your mom... She alluded to... I'm not sure, but... Your last relationship… it ended badly, didn't it?"

Lucas drove for nearly a mile before he said anything. Though he managed to curse his mother from here to eternity in his head. "That's... something I'd rather not talk about."

Peyton knew when she'd overstepped her bounds. "Okay. Forget I asked."

He released a deep, conflicted breath, as if he wanted to tell her, but just couldn't bring himself to do it. "It's just... complicated, Peyton."

Peyton knew all about complicated. She had an intimate relationship with complicated. She just hadn't contemplated that Lucas did, too. He just seemed so carefree, so… _un_complicated.

She told Lucas she understood, then turned her eyes out the window, hiding the fact that it was absolutely _killing_ her that his previous relationship had wrecked him. She let the subject drop, content in letting her imagination run wild with visions of Lucas besotted in love with some beautiful, perfectly perfect person. Peyton hated her, even though she didn't know the woman or had any right to feelings one way or the other.

Ten minutes later, Lucas stopped in front of one of the houses that lined the beach. She said nothing as she got out of the car and followed him up the steps to the front of the house. Inside, her heart did a little flip in her chest.

It was exquisite. The walls were creamy beige, decorated with sailboats and anchors and _fish_. One wall was completely glass, aside from the two French doors that led out onto the porch, that also boasted a narrow walkway that led straight down to the beach.

"You live here?" she gaped, tearing her eyes away from the ocean to look back at Lucas. She wondered if he stood here, peace washing over him as it did her right then. Probably not. Men weren't known for that self-centering crap. They could care less about harnessing their chi and whatnot. But, as she glanced over her shoulder at him, she could see the change. He may have moaned and groaned about coming home, but it centered him—she could tell. There was still a haunted look in his eyes, as if he harbored a few secrets.

"Guilty," he said with a satisfied smirk, the haunted look dissipating with a blink of his eyes. "My parents have their own up the beach and up until a few years ago I just stayed there. Then I found this—"

"It's peaceful here," Peyton interjected with a contented sigh as she returned her attention out the windows at the ocean. "So the opposite from L.A."

Peyton smiled thinly and embarked upon a tour of the house. She made it as far as the bookshelf in the living room before she stopped. Her eyes drifted from one picture to the next, realizing that there was very little Lucas had told her about his life. She stopped suddenly, focusing on one photograph in particular. In the picture him and another boy were fighting over a basketball. "Your brother?" she asked, remembering him mentioning his brother a time or two, however offhandedly.

Lucas couldn't remember if he'd told Peyton about Nathan, but it was obvious that he had at some point. He wondered just how much he had told her about Nathan, about the fragile relationship they had.

"Were you close?" Peyton asked even as she concluded for herself that they were competitors.

Which was why it surprised her when Lucas said, "Once. As close as two brothers could be."

"What changed?"

"We grew up."

Without another word about his brother, Lucas led the way up to the second floor where the bedrooms were. Peyton followed Lucas into a room that made her jaw hit the floor. In the middle of the room was a huge four poster bed, adorned with a coverlet that was an array of bold colors—oranges, browns, reds. The walls of the room were a deep brown and various black and white photos hung from golden knobs. French doors opened onto a closed in porch that housed sofas and a round table.

"This is _lovely_," Peyton gasped somehow resisting the urge to throw herself down on the bed and roll around.

"I knew you'd like it," Lucas said smugly.

"Is this your room?"

Lucas shook his head. "No, my room is through that door." Peyton moved to the door that he pointed to, opening it to find a huge bathroom.

"An adjoining bathroom?" She walked into the room, casually taking in the ceramic tiled floor, marble countertops, the raised bathtub and huge walk-in shower that took up an entire wall. "It's got a vanity space," she said, a little surprised.

"A preemptive measure," Lucas said with an indifferent shrug of his shoulders.

"For...?"

Lucas leaned against the doorjamb as he told her, "That was added after I bought this place. An old man lived here before. Spent his whole life here, never married. It wasn't girl friendly. Throughout the house there were dark walls, dark upholsteries… So, as a service to my mother, I had the bathroom—the majority of the house, really—completely redone. The vanity table, she told me, would be appreciated by any woman that I brought here. Clearly, she was right. Once again."

Peyton just grinned. With Lucas falling into step behind her, Peyton pushed open the door that led into his bedroom, her feet sinking into the plush carpet. She stopped in the middle of the room, eyes taking in the dark blue walls, the black contemporary bedroom furniture… and not much else. "Wow, Lucas. I love what you've done with it," she remarked dryly. "Can I have the designer's number?"

"Don't be catty. It's a little sparse, I know."

"Little is an understatement."

Lucas moved into the room as Peyton sat down on the bed. "All I do is sleep in here so I didn't see the need for all the bells and whistles."

"What, you're telling me that you _don't_ bring hoards of women back here?"

Lucas felt a little insulted. Did he have that playa, playa vibe about him? God, he hoped not. He wasn't _that_ brother. Or, at least, he wasn't anymore. "Do I look like that kind of guy to you?" he asked, sitting beside her on the bed.

Peyton answered quickly, but quietly, "No." She looked at him, offering him a small smile of repentance. "No, you don't… if you ever were."

Lucas brushed a chaste kiss to her forehead. "So," he said, veering the subject away from his dating habits. "My family tend to make themselves at home when I'm… home. I'll understand if you want to take the separate bedroom…" It was a fact that the Scott clan ran amok his home, whether he had a girlfriend or not. Either way they were always around, his mother always eager to host a party, his father to regal everyone in attendance about his high school basketball career—and Nathan's journey to the pros.

Sighing, Peyton told him, "You're doing that gentlemanly thing again. You know how it annoys me." She wouldn't mind seeing his parents more; it was Lucas who seemed averse to it. Maybe it was the attention he didn't want. Maybe he just wanted to hang low while he was in town. Whatever his hang up was it was obvious that he didn't look forward to any visits from his family—impromptu or otherwise.

"Sorry. Look, I know how my family can be. You saw that for yourself at the hospital. They can—_and will_—insinuate themselves here. My friends, too. But they're another matter. I just want to make sure you know what you're in for."

Peyton waved off his warning with an, "Oh, please. You haven't seen intrusive until you meet Brooke, my best friend. A closed door means absolutely nothing to her."

"So you understand?"

"Completely." Then, shaking her head and pushing her finger into his chest, she said, "But I'm not staying in the guest room." She'd come all this way to be with him, not be banished to another room to safeguard Lucas's delicate sensibilities. "I'll brave it out in here, with you. Unless you'd rather me sleep in there. All by myself. I mean… I could get lonely."

She toed off her heels and laid back on the bed, enjoying the redirection of Lucas's eyes—to her gaping shirt. "When you put it like that..." Peyton pulled his hand until he was stretched out on top of her.

Not much talking was done after that.

—

Peyton was sitting up in bed at six-thirty in the morning, watching Lucas get dressed for his first day at Scott Motors. It was obvious that he was nervous, if his imitation of a woman was any indication. At current count, he'd already changed his dress pants twice, his shirt four times and was incapable of picking a tie.

"Which one?" Lucas asked stepping out of his closet, holding up two of his ties for Peyton's veto. In her opinion they were both horrid, but she wasn't about to tell him that.

Peyton swung her legs over the side of the bed, crossing the room to him. "Definitely not the green one." Taking it out of his hand, she tossed it back in the closet, choosing the other that he held out. "This one will do. It'll make you look smashing as the big, bad boss."

"Smashing, huh?" Lucas asked as Peyton stood in front of him and began fastening his tie.

"Oh, totally." Her job complete, she smiled up at him, smoothing out his collar. "Perfect."

"So, what are you going to do today?" Lucas hadn't even thought what she was going to do everyday (for God knows how long) while he was away at the car dealership. He didn't know what exactly her work entailed and how long that would take her. If she had things to accomplish everyday, if it would keep her occupied until he'd return at night.

"The usual. Haggle my artists. Suntan." She grabbed his tie, pulling him closer. "Meet my boyfriend for lunch."

His smile faded. "Peyton... I won't be able to get away for lunch today."

Peyton felt herself deflate. She would've liked to meet him, find out how his day was going. Plus, it would be a diversion from going out of her mind. What was she going to do all day to keep herself occupied? There was only so many artists that she could call to annoy, so many emails to answer. She wasn't much of a television watcher, either. The occasional _Friends_ syndicated episode or _Grey's Anatomy_ on Thursday, but that was at night. What the hell played during the daytime? Infomercials? Soap operas? No thank you. "That's okay. I'll find a way to amuse myself. I'm sure I won't die from boredom. Pretty sure, anyway."

Lucas watched her walk away. "Now you're making me feel bad."

"No. Luke, it's fine. I'll be fine. This is fine. Everything's..."

"Fine?" He filled in for her. "Is there another word you've like to substitute for fine or should I get you a thesaurus?" Peyton didn't say anything; she just stared at him blankly. "Look, you won't be alone everyday, I promise. The first week is going to be the hardest and then I won't have to be around nearly as often—or go in as early. We'll have more time to spend together."

"Don't worry about me. I'll find something to do."

"As long as it doesn't entail burning the house down." He left the room, laughing, as Peyton chucked a pillow at him.

—

After Lucas had left for work, Peyton had left the bed, donned her robe and made her way out onto the back porch. She slid onto one of the deck loungers, watching as the sun rose higher in the sky, turning the water a variety of colors. She loved watching the sunrise; it was something she never got around to doing in L.A.

An hour later, her internal clock started buzzing, encouraging her to get her ass moving and get to work. She took a quick shower, set up her laptop in the living room and started working. She went through a stack of demos, tossing eight, keeping four. She was in the process of gathering the contact information for the artists when her phone rang. It was her assistant. That was never a good sign, especially since she'd been gone all of a day.

"Hey Gigi. What's going on?" she answered, hoping that it wasn't anything dire..

"I didn't want to disturb you, Peyton, but Chris Keller is here and he's… well, he's causing a scene."

Peyton looked up at the ceiling, mouthing curse words. Why couldn't she ever have a vacation free of Chris Keller? "Of course he is," she muttered. "Put him on the phone," she ordered Gigi.

She listened as the phone was transferred. "Peyton. Babe. Where are you? I need you. Shouldn't you be here already?"

"I'm on vacation, Chris, and once again you're ruining it. What are you doing? Gigi said you're terrorizing her." Chris had been the reason she'd had to cut her Europe trip short. An ex-boyfriend (a fact that she didn't like to cop to), Chris had gotten kicked off his previous label and _begged_ her to take him on. Against her better judgment, she had. Unfortunately, now she had to put up with his melodrama on a regular basis.

"Two words, Peyton. Justin and Timberlake. Get where I'm going with this?"

She huffed, getting impatient. "I never have any idea where you're going with anything. Just spill it, Keller. I don't have all day."

He grunted, then said, "The suits want me to _dance_, Peyton. Chris Keller don't dance."

"Of course Chris Keller don't dance. All Chris Keller does is complain," she scowled at him through the phone, wishing that she could reach through it and smack him upside the head like she usually did. It'd brighten her day.

"Hey, I resent that. I don't complain all the time," he insisted.

Peyton conceded. "No, no. You're right. If you complained all the time, there'd be no time to hit on a bevy of uninterested girls."

"Hey, I resent that, too. Besides I remember a time when you _were_ interested."

"Please don't remind me. I was young and stupid… but mostly stupid. And drunk. Now, about the Dancing Keller business. What do you want me to do? If the suits want you to dance, you dance. Once they see that you have no rhythm, they'll hand you your guitar and show you the door."

"That sounds doable. See I knew I was making the right decision to sign with you. Even if you are verbally abusive."

"Goodbye Chris."

"Wait, wait. Where are you?"

"I'm on vacation. And you're spoiling it… for a second time!"

"Well, aren't you hormonal today," he scoffed.

"Don't you worry about my hormones. Do what the suits tell you to do, Chris, or you'll find yourself hunting for another label." Peyton snapped her phone shut, having had enough of Chris Keller. Whatever compelled her to date that man-boy, she'd never know. She took a deep, fortifying breath, then got back to work.

It was going to be a long day.


	4. I've Got You Under My Skin

Disclaimer: One Tree Hill and its characters belong to Mark Schwahn, The CW, etc. I'm simply whoring them for my own amusement.

Spoilers/Warnings: I'm screwing with pretty much everything in the OTH verse. For now if you've seen S1, you're golden.

Summary: AU. A one night stand blossoms into much more than Lucas and Peyton originally bargained for.

AN: School has settled down a bit so hopefully I can squeeze in more time to write. *crosses fingers* All kinds of people pop up in this chapter, like my fave person, Skills. Who isn't so street in alterna-verse.

—

**04. I've Got You Under My Skin**

"Hey, loser."

Lucas was so absorbed in the document he was reading, he hadn't heard the door open. He didn't need to look up to know that his kid sister was loitering in the doorway. "I'm working," he dismissed her, not the least bit surprised when Lily ignored him and advanced into the room.

He set the paper aside, knowing his sister—that she would not leave him in peace until he'd given her his full attention, listened to whatever it was she'd come to tell him. He leaned back in his chair, giving her what she sought.

"Excuses, excuses," she said with a roll of her eyes, climbing into one of the chairs in front of him. Lucas was all work and no play. So unlike Nathan. It was probably the reason the dealership was never put into Nathan's incapable hands.

"Can't you sit in a chair like a normal person? Do you have to swing into it like you're a monkey?"

"Man, don't you have your panties in a notch. Take a pill, dude."

"Don't call me dude," he spat, annoyed. He shook his head, spying the clock on the wall. "What are you doing here? School doesn't let out for another hour."

Studying her nails, she told him, "I blew off gym." Before Lucas could say anything to the contrary, she added, "You can relax, Mom knows I left. Though, she thinks I'm going shopping with Marissa."

"So why aren't you? Shopping with Marissa, I mean."

"I wanted to see you."

Lucas got up from his desk to close the door. "No, you wanted to badger me with questions."

"That, too," Lily said with a sneer.

"So why'd you have to lie to Mom about where you were going?"

Lily heaved a sigh. "Because she didn't want me to come. Yesterday when I found out that you were in town I wanted to drop by the beach house but she expressly forbid it."

"Expressly?"

"_Expressly_," Lily insisted fervently. "She said that you'd brought someone with you and that I should give the two of you time to settle in."

Lucas dropped into the chair beside his sister, loosening his tie and unfastening the top two buttons of his shirt. "I'll have to thank Mom for doing her best to keep you at bay. Though it wasn't really necessary. I warned Peyton about the lot of you."

"That's her name?"

Eyeing his sister curiously, Lucas asked, "Didn't you wrangle everything out of Mom?"

"Of course. I honestly thought she was kidding when she said the girl's name was Peyton. I can't picture you dating a Peyton."

"What _did_ Mom say?" he pressed.

Lily shrugged, kicking off her flip flops. "Not much. There was only so much she knew. She kept on _raving_ how pretty Peyton was, how cute a couple the two of you made. I wanted to kill myself."

"Aren't you dramatic as ever."

"And you're as stuffy as ever." They shared a smile, then Lily inquired, "So when do I get to meet her? You know it's totally unfair, Luke, that Mom and Dad met her before me. Out of the three us, I'm the one less inclined to judge harshly."

Lucas scoffed. "You're kidding, right?"

"What? I'm _cake_."

"No. No, you're not. You're more like moldy bread," Lucas told her as he stood up from the chair.

Offended, Lily pulled a face, crossing her arms across her chest. "I resent that."

"Whatever, _Lilliana_." Lucas took a perverted pleasure from the scowl his sister gave him, the breath that she sucked in.

"That's cruel, Lucas, breaking out the full name like that. You know I hate it."

"It's why I do it." While she'd been pregnant with Lily, Karen had gotten hooked on historical romance novels. Her favorite book's heroine was named Lilliana. The name had been bestowed to his little sister when she made her entrance into the world. Having hated Lilliana as much as Lily herself, Dan had started the pet name when she was days old. Now they only called her by her full name when she was in trouble—or when they wanted to aggravate her.

"Have you seen Haley or Skills since you've been back?"

Lucas hadn't seen either of his best friends, which was odd. "I called Haley a few days ago to let her that I was coming into town, but I haven't heard from her."

"What about Nathan? Have you heard from him?" Lucas gave her a look. It was a stupid question to pose, she knew, but she had to ask. She secretly hoped that her brothers would sort out their differences, but she didn't see it happening anytime soon. If ever. Betrayal ran wide and deep. Neither of them would forgive easily—themselves or each other. "Sorry I asked."

"I know you want to see us like we used to be, but I don't think we'll ever be like that again, Lil."

"A girl can hope, can't she?" She loved her brothers equally, even though she was closer to Lucas; Nathan's main focus had always been basketball, basketball, basketball so he'd never had much time to bestow upon her. Standing up, she slipped back into her flip flops. "I guess I'll let you get back to work."

Lucas watched his sister walk toward the door, looking a little defeated. He knew that Lily just wanted to see him and Nathan bury the hatchet. Not wanting to dash her hopes, he called out, "Chin up, Lil. You never know. There might be hope for me and Nathan."

"You think so, Luke?"

He nodded. "I do."

Lily smiled and as annoying as he found her sometimes, it made him cherish her all the more. Before she shut the door behind herself, she told him, "Tell Peyton I said hi."

—

"This is a lot of bubbles," Lucas commented that night, stretching out on the opposite side of the huge bathtub across from Peyton. He had come back from the dealership to find her drawing a bath. She'd been wearing a mere slip of a towel when he'd walked into the bathroom and had dropped it, encouraging him to join her. Never one to pass up such a delightful invitation, he started shucking his clothing and climbed into the water with her.

As he laid back, the water lapping over his tired muscles, Peyton told him plainly, "I like bubbles."

"Candles, too, apparently," he mused, noting the candles strewn about his bathroom, filling the room with the scent of gardenia, a scent that he realized always lingered on Peyton's skin.

"Stop complaining. Bubble baths do not make you less of a man, if that's what you're worried about."

"It's not. I was just stating a fact. It's something new I've learned about you since we've come here. You like bubble baths."

"If you wanted to know something about me, all you had to do was ask."

Lucas shook his head. "No, no, that's not true." Peyton started to object, but he cut her off, saying, "Of course it is. I have to observe silently if I want to get to know you."

"As if I'm the only stranger in this relationship. I remember asking you about your last relationship a few days ago and you told me to mind my own business."

"Are we back to that? I told you it was complicated. Besides, it happened before you, it shouldn't matter."

"Our previous relationships matter, Lucas. They're what led us here. They've made us who we are. Every relationship you've ever had has shaped you into the person you are now. I want to know about those relationships whether they're with your parents or your ex-girlfriend from six months ago or the dog you had when you were eight."

He felt compelled to tell her that he never had a dog, but instead he said, "You've never mentioned the guys that came before me. Why's that?"

Peyton glared at Lucas, hating him for broaching this subject. Some things were better left unsaid, but others... She needed to know if his last relationship had left him damaged, if she was beating a dead horse. She wasn't going to pant after him like some besotted like puppy as she'd done with Jake. Been there, done that, got the broken heart.

"I see that look in your eyes. I'll shut up now."

She blew out a frustrated breath as she pushed her hair through the water. "I'm not trying to be difficult. I just… I just want to _know_ you. There's nothing wrong with that, is there? To want to know my boyfriend?"

"No. There's nothing wrong with that. And I'll tell you everything you want to know. Just… I just need a little time to gear myself up for it. It's not… it's not something I'm very proud of."

Peyton eyed him warily. "You're not going to tell me you tortured and killed a puppy, are you? Because that's a relationship ender right there."

Lucas tried to summon a smile, for her, at the very least, but he just couldn't. It was enough that he had to live with the burden every single day of what had transpired, but having to tell her—that would be his own private hell. There were just some things a girlfriend didn't need to know. "I assure you, no harm has befallen a puppy."

Peyton said nothing further, just threw Lucas her loofah and gave him her back. "You're not going to grill me anymore?" he asked as he lathered up the sponge.

"You'll tell me when you're ready. I can be patient. I just want to know that you will tell me _eventually_. A girl deserves to know what she's getting into."

"I'll tell you," he promised, dropping a kiss to her shoulder. He would tell her. He wouldn't like seeing the look on her face, for her to know what a mess he'd made of his life—how he'd screwed up monumentally because he'd been young and stupid and drunk.

—

"What is it, Visit Lucas at Work Week?" Lucas snickered, finding Skills sitting at his desk when he returned from lunch.

Skills was reclined in the chair, his hands behind his head, his feet propped up on the desk, completely at ease. "I could get used to this," he said as he spotted Lucas standing in the doorway.

"You do know that actual work is involved, right?" As an afterthought, he added, "Hell, if I knew my Dad wouldn't bitch and complain from here to Sunday, I'd toss you the keys and head to the beach," closing the door behind himself.

"Alone?"

"Never." Lucas smirked, dropping into one of the chairs directly in front of Skills. "So, what brings you here?"

"I heard you was back. I would've came sooner but I heard that you didn't come alone. I didn't want to intrude."

"Since when does anyone worrying about intruding? Normally the lot of you would swarm down on my house and invade it like it was Normandy." Skills supplied Lucas with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. Lucas threw his head back, letting out a small shriek of frustration. "Why is it so interesting to you all that I brought a woman home with me? I've dated. It's not like I've been celibate these last few years."

"I don't know, Luke. We all think this one's different." Skills paused a beat, giving his best friend the stare down. "Is she?"

Lucas flashed Skills a knowing look. Unfortunately Skills wouldn't deter. He stared until Lucas exclaimed, "Okay. Alright! Yes, she's different. She's _different_."

For a long moment, Lucas waited for Skills to say something. Anything. He could count on Skills to have an opinion—and an honest one at that. Skills would tell him that he was crazy, that he was moving too fast. That he knew next to nothing about Peyton. That what he was feeling couldn't be love... _could it?_

"Well? Aren't you going to say anything?"

Skills just shook his head. "No. Because you probably don't want to hear what I'm gonna say."

"Say it anyway. It's never stopped you before."

Skills dropped his feet to the floor and sat up straighter. Folding his hands atop the desk, he told Lucas, "I'm not going to say anything at all, Luke. Because like it or not you feel something for this girl, that's why this is bugging you so much—all of our interests in her and this relationship. You didn't tell any of us that she existed. That's the tell right there, buddy."

Lucas knew that Skills was right. He hadn't told anyone about her for a reason, because he was scared that their interference would muck it all up. Well, Nathan's interference would, anyway. Seeing that this conversation was veering in a touchy-feely girly kind of way, he said, "Can we not do the girl thing? I'd rather not, if you don't mind."

"That's cool." Then, "So me and Tim was talking…"

Lucas groaned. "A sentence that starts off like that can never end well."

Skills ignored Lucas, soldiering on to say, "We was talking about throwing you a welcome home party—"

"No," Lucas intervened quickly. He did not want a party. He did not want a bunch of strangers milling about his house, hitting on his girlfriend and breaking things.

"You didn't even let me finish," Skills objected.

"Look, Skills I don't want a party. I'm grateful to you and Tim for the thought, but the answer is no. Besides, do you remember what you two did to my house after the last party you threw? I don't think so. We can have something a little tamer, a barbecue or something," Lucas suggested in exchange.

Defeated, Skills agreed as he stood up and began to make his way toward the door. "Fine. Whatever. She'll be there, right?"

Lucas resigned himself to having to share his girlfriend with his friends (and more than likely his family) for an entire evening. The sooner they assuaged their curiosity, the better. "Yes, she'll be there."

"Your house, then. Tomorrow night. I'll bring the potato salad. "

—

Lucas heard Peyton yelling as he let himself into the house, his arms loaded with bags of groceries. Skills and the rest of his friends would be arriving within the hour and it didn't bode well for the night's success if Peyton was already in a mood. As he neared the kitchen he heard her yelling, "I don't care if your dog died or you lost an arm. You need to get your ass into the studio and record your album. No, _no_ excuses." She paused for a moment, listening for a reply, then she responded, "Look, just do what they tell you to do unless you'd rather be singing on a street corner for spare change."

"That was interesting," Lucas remarked once she'd ended the call.

Peyton smiled thinly. "I was yelling, wasn't I?"

"A little, yeah. Tough day at the office?" he asked, setting the bags down on the counter.

"One of my artists has this inability to follow directions. He does what he wants, when he wants, how he wants and where he wants. It's a little frustrating. He's newly acquired and my bosses are pressuring me to get him to the studio to cut a track that we can start distributing to radio stations in preparation for the album that he will hopefully release at the end of this year. See? My job isn't the least bit glamorous."

"What job is?" Lucas scoffed as he started pulling groceries out of the bags. Carrying an armload to the refrigerator, he told her, "I have a confession to make. I didn't really think your job was all that glamorous."

Peyton sucked in a breath. "You didn't? Our relationship is based on a _lie_?" Grinning, she laid her phone on the counter and began to help him unpack the bags he'd brought in.

"Why do you keep this guy on if he's so much trouble?"

"Because he's my ex-boyfriend," she revealed without thinking. The steak sauce Lucas had been in the process of taking from her fell to the floor. She didn't shrink as Lucas straightened to his full height, repeating, "Your ex-boyfriend?"

"Yes."

Lucas realized that she was throwing him a bone, giving him insight into _her_ previous relationship. Though, he had to admit that it rankled a bit that this guy was still a part of Peyton's life. "He works with you?"

"Actually _for_ me," she felt compelled to correct. "Not that it really matters."

Lucas stared at her, amused that his small question had resorted in her mindless babble. "Was it serious?"

Peyton laughed. She tried not to, but the concept of anyone having a serious relationship with Chris Keller invoked the funny. However, Lucas who didn't know Chris was not amused. "No," she said, immediately hearing the disgust in her voice. "My relationship with Chris Keller was a joke. We dated for a month and it was thirty days too long, to be honest."

"But you're friends now?"

"We're not friendly at all. He often tells me that I'm verbally abusive. Which is true."

"Does he deserve the abuse, verbal or otherwise?"

"Every second of it."

Satisfied with that, Lucas hauled Peyton into his arms. "I'm sorry that I sprung this dinner on you."

"It's fine, Luke. I'm happy to meet your friends."

"And on that note, let me just apologize in advance for them. Well, for Tim, anyway. Skills won't be a problem."

Peyton eyed him warily as he slid from arms and headed for the bedroom. "Now, I'm scared."

"As you should be."

—

Peyton had ordered him to open up a bottle of wine while she dashed into the bathroom to change. He was in the process of deciding between red or white when the door to the house opened.

Handshakes and hugs were exchanged, his friends excited at seeing him. "I'm sorry about your dad, Luke," Tim told him as he crossed to the refrigerator to stash the six pack he was holding. "How is he?"

"He's Dad, you know. He'd rather be working or fishing or living vicariously through Nathan."

Lucas turned away to avoid the looks that his friends were no doubt giving him. It was no secret that he was envious of the attention that his dad gave Nathan. But he understood why Dan was so enamored of Nathan. Nathan had reached the ultimate point in his basketball career that Dan himself had aspired to. Lucas had aspired to the pros at one point himself.

"And on that sour note…"

A collection of groans were expelled as the three of them recognized the voice. "Who invited the brat?" Tim asked, jerking his thumb at Lily who had entered the house unnoticed.

Lily glared at him. "I don't need an invitation to see my brother, jerk wad. Shouldn't you be hooking up with a stripper, getting syphilis or something?"

"Shouldn't you be at home doing homework and watching Nickelodeon?" he shot back.

"Hardy har har. You're hilarious. Did you think that one up all by yourself?"

"Okay, that's enough. From the both of you," Lucas said, shooting stern looks from his sister to Tim. It never failed. Whenever the two of them were in the same room together, barbs and insults flew back and forth endlessly. It was slightly irritating.

Lily did her best to look chagrined. "He started it, Luke," she mumbled, tamping down the urge to stick her tongue out at Tim.

"It's Tim. You know he does it to piss you off."

"Well… he's succeeding," Lily huffed.

Lucas looped his arm around his sister and moved her to his side. "Tim, leave Lily alone."

"Yeah, pick on somebody who rivals your I.Q.," Lily put in right before Lucas scowled down at her. "Last insult, I swear."

"It better be."

Lucas dropped a kiss atop Lily's head before he moved away to grab glasses from the cupboard. He was in the midst of setting wine glasses down on the counter when Tim said, "There's juice boxes in the fridge for you, Lily."

"Ceasefire, Tim," Skills said to his friend as he set the bowl of potato salad he'd brought with him down on the counter beside the glasses.

The boys gathered up the barbecue items and headed outside. Lucas invited Lily to join them, but they were boys. They would no doubt be talking about basketball, girls and sex. Um, _no thank you_. Besides there was only so much Tim she could handle. It was better if he was received in small doses.

For a while, she just stood there, staring at the door that Tim, Skills and Lucas had just vacated. She questioned her decision to come here, though she couldn't really stay away. She was eager to meet Peyton, to see the woman that her parents were sure would become her sister-in-law.

"Hey, Luke, where's the—" Peyton stopped suddenly, seeing the young girl standing in the kitchen. "Well, hello."

It was _her_. She with the flippy hair, perfect skin and prettiest eyes Lily had ever seen. Was she a model? _Had_ Lucas (or her parents for that matter) mentioned what or who Peyton was? She couldn't remember. It didn't signify, anyway—the girl was a knockout. "You're her," she blurt out like an idiot.

"If by her you mean Peyton, then you're right. And you must be Lily."

"Was I that obvious?"

Peyton shook her head. "No. The likeness between you and Lucas is uncanny." Peyton stepped further into the kitchen, asking, "So are you crashing?"

Lily nodded, not bothering to lie. "I wanted to see you. I mean, meet you. Either way, here I am."

"You have his dry wit, too."

Lily smiled at that; she liked when people acknowledged similarity between her and Lucas. "My Dad says I'm just like Lucas. Whenever he gets mad at me, he pulls out his trump card. 'Lilliana, you're just like Lucas.' Sometimes I'm glad for it, others not so much." Lily moved to the counter and slid onto a barstool. "He doesn't talk about us much, does he? Lucas is very private, but I'm sure you've learned that about him already."

Peyton knew that Lily expected her to sing Lucas's praises. Instead, she turned the conversation to Lily herself. "Your real name is Lilliana?"

"Yes, but please call me Lily. The full name is only broken out under dire circumstances."

Peyton said, "Lily it is. So, should we go outside and join the boys?"

"I'd rather not. Tim is out there."

"And we don't like Tim?" Peyton asked, and then realized that at Lily's age usually the person you liked the most inwardly was the one that you despised outwardly. "Or we like him too much?"

"Don't tell Lucas. Please. I know I don't you and I have no right to ask… but please don't. He'll tease me endlessly. After all, it's _Tim._"

Peyton knew firsthand what it was like to be attracted to the wrong person. She assured Lily, "Your secret's safe with me."

—

Outside, Lucas, Skills and Tim were busy watching the fire strengthen in the barbecue as they talked and caught up on each other's lives. Lucas was surprised to find out that his sister's offhand comment from earlier was true. Tim had acquired a fondness for slutty strippers. Not that Lucas should be surprised by that revelation. Skills, meanwhile, was dating a teacher from the high school and was contemplating proposing.

"Wow. Tim's addicted to diseased strippers and you want to get married."

"They're not _all_ diseased," Tim insisted.

The three of them exchanged a laugh, and then busted out laughing. They had always enjoyed one another's company, even when Tim and Nathan had been friends. That was how Peyton and Lily found them.

"We're late for the joke, apparently."

Ever the gentlemen, they shot to their feet. Lucas was the last to stand, only doing so when his friends sent him disgruntled looks. She winked at him, an assurance that his rebellious behavior would suit for the time being. "You must be Skills and Tim." Peyton outstretched her hand toward them, but was gathered into a group hug by the two men. "Well," she said once they'd let her go. "Aren't you a friendly bunch."

Lucas stepped up beside her, looping an arm around her waist. "Peyton, guys. Guys, Peyton." When Tim started to approach again, ready to furnish Peyton with another hug, he said, "Sit, Tim. _Stay._"

Tim double smacked his chest with his fist. "Bros over hoes, Luke. Bros over _hoes_."

Lucas ignored Tim as he turned to Peyton to say, "So I see you've met Lily." He glanced past her at his sister who was loitering near the door.

"I have. I have to say that it's a little scary how like you she is, Luke."

"Yeah, L. Scott. She's like you with breasts."

"Stop trying to make that work, Tim."

Lucas rolled his eyes. "Home sweet home." He brushed a kiss to Peyton's temple, asking as he pulled away, "Are you girls going to hang out here with us?"

Peyton took stock of Luke's friends. They seemed nice enough, although it was making her uneasy the way Tim kept leering at her. "Thanks, but we'll pass. I think we'll hang out inside. I thought I'd get Lily's opinion on some new demos."

Lily brightened. Like Lucas, she loved music. "You're in the music business?"

With a nod of her head, Peyton told her, "I own a record label."

"Sweet. You manage anyone good?" Lily asked as she fell into step behind Peyton. A thought occuring to her, she turned back to her brother. "Wouldn't it be a strange coincidence if Haley was on Peyton's label?" Lily didn't wait around for his reaction, she just bounced into the house behind Peyton, eager to thumb through Peyton's music collection.

As Skills and Tim busied themselves with throwing steaks on the pit, Lucas stewed over the likelihood that Haley was signed to Peyton's label. It was a definite possibility—but it was the kind of coincidence he didn't need.

—

Lucas had just sat down at his desk after grabbing a small bite to eat from the vending machine in the employee lounge when his dad's longtime secretary, Margaret, announced over the speakerphone, "Nathan's on line one, Lucas."

He ground his teeth, his immediate reaction when presented with a conversation with his younger brother. He sat there, staring at the phone as he debated ignoring the call altogether. Since everything had gotten so fucked up, he and Nathan didn't speak. Or, rather, they didn't speak civilly. The whole damn situation was entirely his fault. He knew it, had owned up to it. As always, Nathan refused to own up to the part that he played.

He took the call. "Nathan. Hey," he greeted his brother, choosing to rise above the situation and be the better person.

"How is he?" his brother blurted, ever the conversationalist.

Annoyed, Lucas spat, "You called me just to ask about Dad? You could've called him yourself. Better yet, you could visit him. But I forget how self-involved you are." _So much for rising above it._

Lucas heard Nathan expel a deep breath through the line, as if it was taking every ounce of his willpower to maintain his composure. But then any hopes of civility, decency, that little thing known as respect became nonexistent when Nathan said, "That would have been easier, sure. But I couldn't pass up the opportunity to ask you about Peyton. That is her name, right?"

Lucas felt every part of his body screech to a halt, every tissue, nerve and blood cell stopping their work with that one simple, teeny, tiny word. "Yeah, it's Peyton. What about her?" he ground out, his heart hammering wildly in his chest.

"Karen said that L-O-V-E is in the air. How fucking romantic."

"My mom doesn't know what she's talking about," Lucas said insistently, albeit wondering what the hell his mother was doing relaying any information about his life to Nathan. She knew how fragile their relationship had become, knew exactly what had transpired to get them to where they were.

"No? I think she does."

Lucas had grown tired of these games that his brother kept playing. Though, he hadn't dated much since their fallout, since Nathan had made his revenge ploy known. He didn't fathom waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Nathan to do what had been done to him. It had happened three damn years ago. Why wasn't he over it yet? "What do you want, Nathan?" It was a stupid question. Lucas knew what he wanted—and he couldn't have her.

"That's simple, Lucas. I want Peyton. I mean, that's what we do, isn't it? Share our girlfriends?"

Lucas was growing tired of this never-ending feud with his brother. Nathan didn't want to forgive him—fine. But how would getting even make everything better? Nathan would only be repeating Lucas's mistake or rather the mistake that Nathan _ assumed_ he made. "Don't you think it's time to get past that, Nate? We've all moved on."

"I haven't! _Haley_ hasn't."

Lucas sighed. "Whatever, Nathan. Make your veiled threats and be done with it, why don't you? I have work to do."

"I'll be seeing you, Luke," was all Nathan said before he ended the call, the promise of retribution in his words chilling Lucas to the bone.


	5. Guilt Is a Useless Emotion

Disclaimer: One Tree Hill and its characters belong to Mark Schwahn, The CW, etc. I'm simply whoring them for my own amusement.

Spoilers/Warnings: I'm screwing with pretty much everything in the OTH verse. For now if you've seen S1, you're golden.

Summary: AU. A one night stand blossoms into much more than Lucas and Peyton originally bargained for.

A/N: The support of this fic has been phenomenal. I tried to answer a lot of questions that were posed from the last chapter but I didn't get to everyone. So here's some things that I needed to expound upon: Lily is fifteen. Yes, Lucas/Haley had a thing. Nathan/Haley were not married. How Dan/Karen came to be married will be explained in a chapter or two. All that said, enjoy!

—

**05. Guilt Is a Useless Emotion**

Haley stood on the porch of Lucas's beach house, staring at the door as she replayed the message in her head that she'd received from him a few days ago: _"Haley, I'm coming home. There's something I need to tell you. In person."_ She couldn't begin to imagine what it was about, other than what she'd spent the last few months contemplating.

Since the night they'd spent together, she'd thought of little else aside from a misguided desire to establish a romantic relationship with Lucas. They'd talked about it once, albeit not very seriously. But that was _before_. Before she knew what it was like to be in his arms, to feel safe, to feel cherished. Why couldn't Lucas be the Scott brother that she was in love with? He was honest, hardworking, successful. He wasn't horrible to look at and had the kisses they'd shared hadn't been terrible. He just wasn't Nathan.

She let herself into the house with the key that Lucas had made her a few years ago. "Lucas?" she called out, setting her purse and keys down on the table by the door. She noted the disarray—the clothes strewn about, the papers and CDs littering the coffee table in the living room. It wasn't like to Lucas to be so unkempt.

The back door flew open, startling her. She let out a small yelp, expecting to see Lucas. Instead, Haley found herself face-to-face with her label head, Peyton, which didn't make any sense at all.

"Haley!" she gasped. "What are you doing here? Did Gigi send you? Is there a problem?"

Ignoring Peyton for a second, Haley tried to think of a reasonable reason as to why Peyton was in Lucas's house. She glanced around, noting the furniture that she'd helped Lucas select, the stupid marlin that still hung on the wall that he and Dan had killed one summer. Okay, so the house was still Luke's. Still, _what the hell was going on?_

"I'm totally confused," she mused aloud.

"About what?" Peyton inquired.

"What you're doing here."

"I'm taking a vacation. I thought Gigi told you." Peyton pulled a face as she crossed the kitchen to the refrigerator. "Usually she's on top of her game."

Haley watched Peyton pull a yogurt out of the refrigerator. Since when did Lucas buy _yogurt_, she wondered. "I haven't spoken to Gigi, Peyton. I guess I'm just not making myself clear," Haley said, realizing that she wouldn't get answers until she got to the point. "How are you here _here_? In this house."

Peyton looked at her, surprised. For a moment she didn't understand, then she came to the realization that if Haley wasn't there to see _her_, she could only be there to see Lucas. "You know Lucas," she declared quite apathetically.

"All his life."

"Funny how he never mentioned—" Peyton stopped, recognition hitting her like a heat wave in the middle of July. "Oh, god. You're _that_ Haley!"

"And you're the something," Haley murmured. The message from Lucas wasn't to tell her anything that concerned her personally, but instead to inform her that he was in love. Okay, maybe she was jumping the gun. Maybe Luke's feelings for Peyton weren't that evolved. But for him to bring Peyton to Tree Hill, it was obvious that she was special to him. It honestly made her hate Peyton a little, though she was happy for Lucas.

Peyton wasn't sure she heard Haley right. "I'm sorry?"

Haley waved it off. How had she gotten it all turned around in her head? Lucas didn't think of her that way. He never had, never would. It wasn't like she was in love with him. No, that little luxury was given to his ass of a brother. But that still didn't explain how he'd come to know Peyton.

"So… you and Luke, huh?"

"He didn't tell you?"

Haley shook her head. "We haven't spoken much. He was overseas for a while. Did you—did you know about that?" She didn't know how serious Lucas and Peyton were or how long ago they'd begun seeing one another. For all she knew they could've been dating before the night she and Lucas caught up in L.A., their phone conversations were so swift and succinct.

"I was with him for a few days," Peyton told Haley, suddenly uncomfortable. Haley wasn't putting out friendly girl _friend_ vibes. If anything, Haley was being a tad obtrusive and acting… jealous.

Lucas hadn't said much about Haley, other than mentioning her in passing about her being his best friend. He didn't expound on their relationship, if they'd ever shared anything more than that. It was becoming increasingly evident that if nothing had happened with Lucas and Haley, that Haley wouldn't mind if something did—and that put Peyton on her guard.

During her relationship with Jake, she'd had to put up with countless groupies and later his baby mama—the last thing she needed or wanted in her current relationship with Lucas was love unrequited with his best friend.

So much for an complication-free relationship.

—

As Lucas took the steps up the beach house doors, tired from a long day at the dealership, all he longed for was a hot shower and cold sheets. However, when he opened the door, the stereo blaring Pat Benetar, his hopes for a quiet evening dwindled. He yelled at Peyton, but that was useless over the loud music.

He'd replayed his conversation with Nathan over and over as he'd drove home. He didn't want to contemplate what his brother had planned; he just knew that he wasn't going to lose Peyton. Not for Nathan and definitely not for an error in judgment. He didn't want to think about that tonight, so he pushed Nathan out of his head and decided to concentrate on Peyton. He hadn't seen or talked to her since he'd left that morning, and he'd missed her.

When he entered the kitchen, he found Peyton cooking, mumbling to herself, waving a wooden spoon to emphasize the point she was aiming to make. Lucas noted that she was wearing the same clothes he'd left her in that morning and amusement flared within him.

Though, she'd come with him from L.A. with a fully stocked wardrobe and three suitcases, she had spent the majority of her time since they'd arrived in Tree Hill wearing his clothes. Not that he was complaining. In fact, he liked when she wore his clothes. Today's wardrobe consisted of a pair of boxers (rolled up four times) and his threadbare Tree Hill High T-shirt. She pulled off disheveled remarkably. She'd pulled her hair back into one of those messy buns that the girls liked to sport now and several wisps were hanging about her face adding to her tousled appearance.

Propping his arm against the wall, he stood watching her, enamored. He couldn't grasp what she was saying because she was speaking so softly. When she turned around and saw him, she screeched and the spoon flew out of her hand. "You scared me!" she yelled at him, then began searching around for the spoon's landing spot. "Make noise or something when you come in," she fussed, scooping up the utensil from the floor.

"I'm sorry," Lucas apologized, feeling like his mother was reprimanding him. The room was silent, aside from the hiss from the pot on the stovetop. Choosing to ignore her palpable mood, he shifted his attention to the array of pots and pans strewn about. "What smells so damn good?"

"Chicken Fettuccine." Peyton pointed to a covered bowl behind them. "That's salad and I have breadsticks, too."

His stomach growled in response. He'd had a Twix and a Dr. Pepper for lunch—he was starving. "Is this something I can expect every night?"

"Well, not every night. I'm not here to serve you, after all."

"Hmm. But I thought you were." Lucas caught her before she could turn away from him, spinning her around and backing her against the refrigerator. Before he could swoop down and steal a kiss, however, she pushed him away and said, "We have to talk."

"Well, aren't those are words every man _loves_ to hear," he drawled sarcastically, in raptures at the prospect of their chat.

She threw him a sardonic look. "Don't be sarcastic."

"Okay. You wanna tell me what bug crawled up your ass?" Lucas half-expected her to chuck the spoon she was holding at his head. To his amazement, she remained calm and even set it down (obviously to avoid the temptation to do just that).

"I met Haley today," Peyton divulged, watching Lucas for his reaction. She had spent the afternoon practicing on how she was going to tell him, what she was going to say. She had already planned to cook for him before Haley's impromptu visit and she wasn't going to starve herself because her boyfriend wasn't forthcoming about all the skeletons in his closet.

Lucas stared at her, dumbfound. Peyton couldn't have surprised him more if she'd said she'd met Nathan. He felt his heart gain momentum in his chest, his breath become shallower. "You saw Haley," he repeated dumbly. "Where?" Not that it mattered much. Peyton had met Haley therefore, his house of cards would come tumbling down soon—_very soon_.

"Here. Evidently she was hoping to find you—"

"—but found you instead," he interjected. He wanted to ask Peyton what Haley had said, what Haley told her, but that would put her on her guard. Any question he would solicit would make him look guilty, as if he had something to hide. Which he did… but for how much longer? It was only a matter of time before Nathan would be back in Tree Hill and now that Haley was home… his secrets were going to come spilling out and they would disgust Peyton. _He_ would disgust her.

"What is she to you, Lucas?" Peyton asked unable to stop herself from posing the question that had been running rampant through her mind since Haley had left. He looked at her suddenly, his blue eyes dark and menacing. "I'm not accusing you of anything and I'm not jealous, but I-I'd like to know."

For a long moment, Lucas said nothing. Nothing he could say would explain what role Haley played in his life. Sure, she was his best friend, but it wasn't cut and dry as that. There were strings. There were complications. Lucas wracked his brain for a way to explain Haley to Peyton without actually _telling_ her about their sordid past. After a deep sigh, he finally managed, "Haley was Nathan's girlfriend. It didn't end well."

Peyton didn't comprehend at first. What did Haley dating his brother have to do with anything? Then, she thought about the girl that had wrecked Lucas, the one that he refused to talk about. Was that Haley? Yet, as she looked at him, he didn't seem distraught. If anything he seemed… disconcerted. Then, it hit her. The only reasonable explanation: Haley wasn't _the one_, but that one—the cream in the Lucas-Nathan Oreo cookie. She gasped—Haley was the reason Lucas and his brother were estranged.

—

Peyton didn't know what unnerved her more—the fact that she was surrounded by trees or that she was surrounded by water. It was getting dark and the illumination from the interior lights from Luke's SUV wasn't giving way to much light. She didn't know how long she'd been there; she just knew that it had been awhile. She'd stood and bitched out the car for a good hour before she succumbed and called Lucas. Now, here she was, waiting, left with her thoughts. Her stupid, spontaneous thoughts.

The night had underwhelmed her. She'd spent all morning preparing for a meal to surprise Lucas with—the first she'd ever cooked for him—and it had been nothing but a disaster all thanks to Haley. They'd had dinner, sure, but neither of them had enjoyed it. They'd sat silently at the table, the only sounds being the scrape of their forks against the plates. Afterward, she had left in Lucas's SUV, telling him she'd needed to clear her head, sort through everything.

That had been four hours ago.

She was leaning against the side of the car, staring out at the water when Lucas pulled up behind her in a loan from the dealership. When he got out of the car, she glanced at him, noting his jacket was missing, his tie was askew and his shirtsleeves were pushed to his elbows. He looked unkempt and she couldn't help it, it turned her on. She had it bad and that just wasn't good.

"What happened?" Lucas asked as he approached, having already noticed the smoking engine. He could care less about his damn car. He wanted to make sure Peyton was alright.

Peyton shrugged her shoulders as she kicked at the rocks below her feet. "I don't know. It just started smoking and then it just… stopped." She felt helpless, and a little more than embarrassed. For leaving. For killing his car. For standing in the dark unable to think of nothing else but him ripping her clothes off.

Lucas moved to stand in front of her, sliding his hands into his pockets. "I was worried."

"Clearly, you had a reason to be," she said, waving a hand at his broken-down car.

"I don't care about the damn car!" he exclaimed rather vehemently. As Peyton shot him a perplexed look, he gentled his tone and he told her, "What I meant to say was… when you left… I was worried that you wouldn't come back."

Peyton liked that he was worried, that he obviously didn't want to lose her. She certainly didn't want to lose him either. "I'm no coward, Lucas. I don't give up that easily. I just needed time to process."

"And have you?"

Peyton shrugged. "It's still a work-in-progress. I have questions."

Lucas nodded. He would answer any questions she may have. Even the hard-and-direct ones. He was that adamant about keeping her in his life. "I thought you might."

"Did you date her?"

"No," he answered with a shake of his head. Feeling the need to clarify, he added, "Haley and I have always been _just friends_."

"So you haven't slept with her?" Peyton phrased the question in a way that left Lucas the leeway to correct her if that was the case. She hoped that was the case.

Well… "No." Lucas should have been scared how the lie just rolled off his tongue, but he went with it. He would tell Peyton what had transpired between him and Haley, just not here on a deserted stretch of highway outside Tree Hill.

"I don't understand, Lucas. How does Haley fit into the problems you're having with your brother?"

"Nathan didn't treat her well. We were constantly butting heads over it." At least _that_ wasn't a lie.

Lucas played the big brother to Haley; Peyton shouldn't have been surprised, especially having seen him with his little sister a few nights ago. Taking his word for it, she asked the other question that had been plaguing her. "Did you know that she was on my label?"

Lucas shook his head. He'd had his suspicions, but had never brought the subject up with Peyton. That would have involved him getting into his relationship with Haley and before now it was avoidable.

"Look, Lucas, I can deal with you having a girl best friend. I can even deal with the two of you sharing a past. I just don't think I can deal with her being around and carrying a torch for you."

Lucas couldn't help himself—he laughed. "Haley doesn't carry a torch for me," he informed her. Haley had been his friend since infancy; he would know if she had feelings for him... wouldn't he?

"You're a man, Lucas, therefore you're completely clueless. The girl feels something for you that surpasses friendship and I assure you that she was not the least bit tickled when she realized that the two of us were playing house. I'm not the least bit insecure, but I honestly don't know if I can handle this." He looked ready to panic. That comforted her. She quickly assured him, "I'm not giving up on us, but I won't stand by and watch her moon over you, either."

Lucas caught her hand and pulled her close. "I'm not going to lose you, Peyton. If Haley has feelings for me, as you say, then that's her deal. Just know that I don't reciprocate."

Peyton stepped into Lucas's arms, wrapping her arms around him. "It's only been a couple of months, Lucas and yet I can't bear the thought of losing you," she whispered, fearing that if she spoke too loudly she'd never be able to call the words back—they would be out there, real and raw and untouchable.

Lucas was tightening his hold on her when they became aware of bright headlights behind them, accompanied by the sound of a very noisy engine. The truck pulled to a stop beside them, the driver yelling out the window, "Still need a tow, Luke?"

"Hook her up, Keith."

"You know the tow?" Peyton asked Lucas once the truck had driven away and began to maneuver itself in front of the broken down SUV.

"He's my uncle." Lucas opened the passenger side door and pulled the keys out of the ignition.

"Your uncle," Peyton said again. "Wow. This _is_ a small town. Are you related to everyone?"

Lucas laughed as he pushed his keys into his pocket. He took Peyton's hand, leading her around to the front of the car where Keith was rigging it up for towing. "I take it this is the one causing all the fuss?" Keith asked Lucas.

"She's the one."

"She's exactly like Dan described her."

"How's that?" Peyton asked at the same time Lucas groaned, "Oh, God, what'd he say?"

Keith laughed at their reactions, at how they talked over the other. Dan and Karen did that, too, but that was after two decades of marriage. "Just that she was a pretty young thing and that she had angel eyes… or something like that."

Just what he needed, his dad waxing poetic about Peyton to everyone. His family would be the death of him, he had no doubt about it. At least he had one normal relation in Keith. "Peyton, this is my Uncle Keith. Keith, this is Peyton."

Keith stuck out his hand, but then retracted it. He lifted his hand, palm-up, to show her when misconstrued his actions, taking offense. "Oil," he explained. He wiped his hand on his pants, but the effort was futile. The oil wasn't coming off until he could grease his palms properly, at home. So much for formal introductions. "It's nice to meet you, Peyton."

"Likewise, Keith. I didn't even know that Dan or Karen had siblings."

Keith glanced at Lucas briefly, but then focused on Peyton as he said, "Well, there's just me."

"Keith, um, actually helped my mom raise me for a few years."

Keith cut in, "She doesn't know the Scott family story?"

Lucas shook his head. "I didn't think it was something to go into with my new girlfriend. Not right away, anyway."

Peyton observed the two of them, now more curious than ever about the intricacies of Lucas's family. "Whatever it is you two are alluding to, it sounds juicy."

"That it is, but I'm not getting into it right now."

"Why not?" Peyton pressed. She didn't understand why Lucas wouldn't talk about his family or himself. Jake had never been that private; Peyton cursed herself for comparing the two after the thought had already took root.

Keith grinned. "She's a sassy one, Luke."

"You don't know the half of it," Lucas muttered, earning a backhanded slap to his chest from her.

—

Lucas was sitting in the living room, attempting to wind down after his day at the dealership. Unfortunately, the insistent ringing of Peyton's phone kept him from achieving his wanted serenity. He stared at the malevolent device sitting on the coffee table where Peyton had left it; it was mocking him with its noise.

Things between he and Peyton weren't where he would like them to be, but they would get there, of that he had no doubt. He'd been ignoring Haley's phone calls for the past two days. Eventually he knew that he'd have to go and talk to her, but at the moment he was too tired to think about Haley or that whole situation. It could wait until the weekend.

Once again the phone started ringing. Being that Peyton had gone up to town to rent them a movie and forgotten it in her haste, he picked up it, unprepared for the outburst: "HE WANTS TO MARRY ME!"

Lucas was at a loss for words. "Uh… congratulations?" he offered, unaware of who he was congratulating.

On the other side of the phone, Brooke held her phone away from her ear, frowning at it. Bringing it back to the side of her face, she demanded, "Who is this?"

"This is Lucas. Who is this?"

"Brooke Davis, Peyton's best friend."

Lucas felt ridiculous talking on a pink phone with someone that he didn't know. Peyton had mentioned Brooke a time or two, but he'd gleaned that they weren't that close. "Hello, Brooke. Peyton's not here right now."

"Damn, I really need to talk to her."

"Do you want to leave her a message?"

"No, no. It's kind of—Never mind. Just tell her that I called." Brooke hung up, leaving Lucas holding Peyton's phone against his ear, listening to the dial tone.

Snapping the phone shut, he put it back on the coffee table and picked up his laptop. He was just finishing cleaning out his inbox when Peyton walked through the door, brandishing a bag of movies. "I'm definitely not in L.A. anymore. Why you didn't tell me how _small_ the movie store is? A little warning would've helped."

"You wanted movies, I didn't want to discourage you. So, I guess you found something?"

Peyton handed him the bag, tossing his keys into the little bowl on the coffee table. "Nothing you'll like, I'm sure."

"I'm sure they're fine." Lucas set the bag aside. "You forgot your phone. Brooke called." Picking up her cell, Peyton opened it to check her missed calls and sure enough, there were four from Brooke. Before she could even ask, Lucas supplied helpfully, "I got tired of hearing it ring so I answered it. She wants you to call her back. It sounded important."

Curious and more than a little concerned, Peyton dialed Brooke's number, moving around the room as she waited for the call to connect. When Brooke picked up, she yelled, "HE WANTS TO MARRY ME, PEYTON!"

Peyton moved to sit down, completely missing the chair, drawing Lucas's attention from his laptop. He raised an eyebrow—laughter stifled—but had no other reaction. Finding the seat, Peyton asked, "What? Who? I'm confused. Are you dating someone?"

"No!" Brooke exclaimed. "Owen! Owen wants to marry me. This is so like him, you know, wanting to marry me when he's good and ready. It didn't matter when I was ready to get married! Or that he slept with my assistant!"

Peyton looked over at Lucas as she said, "I thought that Owen was in the past."

Silence. Then, Brooke murmured, a little guilty, "Well, he _was_…"

"Brooke!" Peyton gasped. "You didn't."

Owen had started as a crazy thing Brooke had done for her twenty-first birthday. Brooke's present to herself. She'd been single and lonely and he'd bought her one drink too many. He had pursued her relentlessly after she had blown him off the morning after. Brooke had fought all of his advances, bemoaning the fact that he was a bartender, as if the profession was beneath her. Nevertheless, Peyton knew Brooke and, though she hadn't wanted to admit it, she had enjoyed his pursuit.

One minute Brooke was fussing about not being able to discourage his suit, and then she was bragging about their first date. Before Peyton could blink, the two were living together and Brooke was talking about marriage. However, when the time came to step up and actually present Brooke with a proposal, Owen stepped out instead, cheating on Brooke with her close friend and assistant. Almost two years later and Brooke still wasn't completely over him.

"I did, I did. God, it was stupid. You know me, Peyton. I don't go backward. When I breakup with someone, we break up. There's no reconciliation, no second chance."

"But Owen." Peyton understood how it felt be so consumed with an ex, letting them back in repeatedly because it was familiar, because they meant so much. She'd done it numerous times with Jake.

"_But Owen_," Brooke agreed.

Curious, she asked, "What are you going to do? Are you going to accept?"

There was a brief pause, but Brooke replied, "Are you crazy? No, I am not going to accept. He _cheated_ on me with one of my best friends. How could I ever trust him let alone marry him."

"Yet, you slept with him again," Peyton pointed out, waiting for Brooke to bow out of an explanation in exchange for self-preservation. It was what Brooke normally did when she was too embarrassed to explain herself and sleeping with your ex was one thing no woman wanted to cop to.

Brooke, always one to save face, said, "Oh, Peyton, I think that's my doorbell. We'll talk later."

"Of course," Peyton said, smiling knowingly as Brooke abruptly ended their conversation. Brooke would figure out how to deal with Owen. She wouldn't let him down gently, that much Peyton knew. More in keeping of Brooke, she would undoubtedly take a long vacation in an effort to ignore the situation and hope that it went away by the time she returned. Knowing Owen as she did, Peyton knew that he wouldn't give up that easily. If he wanted Brooke, he would have her… and Brooke would be powerless to resist.

—

Haley was toiling around her motel room when she heard the knock. The only person that knew she was back in town was Peyton and there was no doubt that she'd told Lucas and it was he who waited outside the door. She ran her fingers through her hair as she crossed the room. Finding Lucas standing there when she opened the door, she said, "I can't say I'm surprised to see you." She stepped back, letting him enter the room.

"What were you doing at my house yesterday?" he inquired before the door even clicked shut.

"So I'm no longer welcome there now? You know, Luke, you really should have put that in your voicemail," she spat, annoyed that he'd stalked into her room and started talking to her as if he was casting her out of his life like she was yesterday's trash.

Lucas heaved a sigh, placing his hands on his hips. Haley noted how the stance disturbed the line of his suit, a suit that he wore impeccably well. She frowned at her line of thoughts and quickly looked away.

"You were supposed to call me."

"I figured that whatever you wanted to talk about could wait until I came home. And when I did, so that we could _talk in person_, I found your little play toy."

"She's not my play toy," he corrected quickly. "Don't call her that. And how can you talk about her like that? She's like… your boss."

"Ah, so she told you."

"I should've suspected from the beginning." Lucas decided not to beat around the bush. He came here to tell her something so he should just get on with it. "Given the circumstances, I think it's best if we keep our distance," he blurted rather brusquely.

Haley glared at him. Ah, so Peyton was threatened. What other reason would Lucas have for wanting to expel her from his life? Still, it rankled that he was shunning her as if she was his crazy ex-girlfriend. _Hardly._ What had happened between the two of them had occurred years ago. Lucas was past it. What did it matter if she wasn't?

"Did you come to that conclusion yourself or did Peyton help you reach it?"

"Haley, this has nothing to do with Peyton."

"Of course it does, Lucas. You wouldn't be here, telling me to stay away, if your girlfriend didn't have a problem with me."

Lucas hated that Haley had a point. He was doing this for Peyton, for his relationship with her. Though he didn't think for a second that Haley had feelings for him, he felt it imperative to ease his girlfriend's mind by putting the kibosh on his long-standing friendship—for the time being. Peyton would realize eventually that her fears were irrational and then she could really get to know Haley. In the meantime, he had to keep Haley and Peyton away from each other so that their little affair stayed hidden from Peyton, at least until he could summon the wherewithal to tell her.

"Look, Haley, the fact of the matter is we have this a past. We can't deny but the fact of the matter is, we got carried away. It didn't mean anything." Seeing her crestfallen face, he felt like the worse sort of prick. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"

Haley waved him off, insisting, "No, I understand, Lucas. You don't have to draw me a picture. It didn't mean more than what it was. But like you said, it's in the past. We're past it. You want me to stay away, I will."

Grateful, he said, "Thank you."

"She means a lot to you, huh?" She was fishing for information, but she did know Lucas better than anyone else did. If he was willing to cast her out of his life for the interim over a woman, then this was not a casual relationship.

"It's crazy because we haven't known each other but a few months. I feel like she's been a part of my life forever. Losing her just isn't an option for me."

Haley got the message, loud and clear. He didn't have feelings for her; he was more or less in love with Peyton. Alrighty then. Did they have to chat about it all day? "Whatever you want, Lucas," she said, stalking to the door. She pulled it open, hoping that he understood that it was time for him to leave.

Lucas took the hint and started towards the door. There, he stopped. "I talked to Nathan. He knows about Peyton and well with my dad's heart attack it'll only be a matter of time before he comes back."

"Why are you warning me? Nathan doesn't have a problem with me. _You_ on the other hand…"

"I just thought you'd like to know."

Haley shrugged nonchalantly. Without another word, Lucas stalked off to his car; Haley didn't watch him go. She closed the door, and then backed against it as her heart hammered in her chest. Nathan was coming back to Tree Hill. Normally it wouldn't strike her as interesting but considering that his brother was in town boasting a new relationship she knew that his return was no coincidence. Nathan was coming home with an agenda.

Things weren't going to end well for anyone, least of all for Lucas and Peyton.

—

At the airport across town, Nathan Scott was grabbing his suitcase from baggage claim. He'd wanted to keep his return as quiet as possible, which was why the disguise was necessary. No one had recognized him thus far, so far, so good. Satisfied, he headed through the terminal, whistling with contentment.

Parked at the curb outside, a black Escalade was waiting for him. He slid inside and pulled off his dark glasses and hat, throwing them onto the seat beside him. He gave the driver the address of the property he was renting while he was in town and the car advanced forward. As they sped down the highway, Tree Hill's familiar surroundings flashing by, Nathan murmured to himself, "Home sweet home."


	6. The Past and Pending

Disclaimer: One Tree Hill and its characters belong to Mark Schwahn, The CW, etc. I'm simply whoring them for my own amusement.

Spoilers/Warnings: I'm screwing with pretty much everything in the OTH verse. For now if you've seen S1, you're golden.

Summary: AU. A one night stand blossoms into much more than Lucas and Peyton originally bargained for.

—

**06. The Past and Pending**

Peyton stared at Lucas from across the table, stirring her Cheerios around her bowl, barely paying her breakfast any attention whatsoever. Lucas, on the other hand, had her undivided attention, if he'd only make use of it. Instead, he'd buried his head behind the newspaper, blind to her turmoil.

Since Haley had invaded their lives, their relationship just wasn't the same. Sure, they'd tried to get things back to where they were but she was the huge elephant in the room. Neither of them had mentioned her again yet they hadn't touched in days—and she was beginning to feel the burn.

She'd focused on her work, doing the best she could over the phone. Though getting Chris Keller to do what she wanted without being able to slap him silly just wasn't working for her. The last thing she wanted to do was to fly back to L.A. for a few days; she might be tempted not to return. She squashed that thought immediately. She was not going to give up because Lucas had a best friend who was in love with him. She'd managed to endure Jake and his groupies for years. She could do this—she _would_ do this.

Feeling the need to broach a conversation, Peyton attempted to garner her boyfriend's attention, saying, "You know, we should do something today. It's so nice out. We should go sailing or… something." What did people do in Tree Hill for fun? She had no idea. She'd been in town almost two weeks and had gone as far as the movie store.

"It's supposed to rain this afternoon," came his reply, muffled from behind the paper.

She stared daggers at him, but persevered. "Then we'll cuddle on the sofa and watch movies. I don't think we've ever done that."

"I'm not really in the mood for a movie. I'll just go into the study and write while you watch your movie."

Annoyed now, Peyton pushed back her chair and stood up from the table. "You know... I think I'll go out."

"Out where?" Lucas yelled after her as she left the room. Frowning, he threw down the paper and pushed away from the table. He called her name as he made his way to the back of the house. He found her in the bathroom, turning on the taps in the shower. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," she replied curtly.

"It doesn't sound like nothing."

She looked at him, opened her mouth to tell him exactly what her problem was, but thought better of it. "It's _nothing_," she insisted. "Now, could you please leave so that I could take my shower?"

Lucas leaned against the doorjamb and folded his arms. He wasn't going anywhere.

_Well, two could play that game_, Peyton thought. Only she would win. She untied her robe, letting it drop to her feet. Beneath it, she didn't wear much else unless you counted boy shorts and a cami as clothing. Which she didn't. She peeled off the shirt and slid the underwear down her legs, shooting Lucas a seductive look as she stepped into the shower.

"You know that was unfair."

His voice stopped her. "I thought the playing field was leveled, actually." She shut the door and stepped beneath the spray yet she still heard Lucas approach. Before she knew it, he had thrown open the door and stepped inside. "Lucas, you're going to get soaked. Get out."

He made no move to do as she bid. He pulled the door closed and slowly backed her against the wall. They were both aware that she was naked. And that Lucas was hard. Things were about to get very, very interesting. "You're making me pay for Haley, aren't you?" he asked, not taking his eyes from hers. If he did, he wouldn't be responsible for what he'd do to her.

He'd been indifferent to her, yes, choosing to give her the time she needed to move past the whole situation with Haley. He had convinced himself that when she wanted him, she'd make the first move. In turn, Lucas had promised himself that he wasn't going to push himself on her, even though he'd been dying the last couple of days not being able to touch her. Enough was enough. This impasse of theirs ended _now_.

Peyton was aware that Lucas was watching every minute move she made—the rise and fall of her chest, the movement of her throat as she swallowed, her restless hands. "I'm not doing anything, Lucas. You're the one that's acting strange."

"I felt it was imperative I give you time to adjust to the whole Haley thing. I was giving you space to come to terms."

"Space?" she echoed. "I didn't need any space. I'm fine. You said that you and Haley have only ever been friends. I believed you."

Well, that was a relief. For the time being. "Now you tell me," he muttered.

Peyton waited for him to move, for him to leave her to her shower, but he remained where he was, watching her. It unnerved her because… well, she was naked. She watched his wet his lips with his tongue, biting back the groan that bubbled in her throat.

He moved closer. "So then if I did this," he paused to brush her lips with his, "You wouldn't object?"

"N-no," she stammered, taken off guard by the action.

"And this," he added, filling his palm with her breast, "That I could do, too?"

Peyton was finding it difficult to draw breaths. She nodded her consent. When Lucas pressed his hand between her legs, she gave up talking altogether. Nevertheless, she wasn't going to let Lucas have all the fun, either. She wanted to do some touching of her own. She wanted to feel his skin, too. She wanted to make him burn as she was. His shirt went first, followed by his boxers. Then her hand was on his cock, his was between her legs and they were working in tandem to bring the other to completion.

Only Peyton's release was just out of her grasp. She was on the cusp, she could feel it but she just couldn't quite get there. She was beginning to get frustrated when Lucas dropped his hand and filled her with something far more impressive. A little yelp escaped her at his first thrust. He stilled. "Are you alright?" he panted, concerned.

She shook her head, explaining, "I should be used to it at this angle, but I'm just…not."

"I could stop."

"You do and I swear I will castrate you," she cautioned.

He snickered, "And then neither us will be able to have any fun."

Peyton wrapped her legs around Lucas as he pulled out then drove back into her. She reached for the showerhead to balance herself as he began a delicate, slow in and out motion. She accidentally knocked the showerhead to the floor when her orgasm hit her from out of nowhere, Lucas cutting off her scream with a passionate kiss and he too found his release.

Weak, Peyton slumped against Lucas, gasping, "That was…" as he disjoined from her.

"Yeah," Lucas agreed, pressing a kiss to her cheek as he pushed them beneath the spray. The water had gone cold; he turned the warm water higher.

"I'm sorry about earlier," Peyton apologized, looping her arms around his neck, her breasts abrading his chest.

His breathing had yet to return to normal, although if she kept on touching him, they might have to go again. "It's okay," he assured her, turning her around so that her back was to his front.

"Don't even think about it," she warned as he reached over her shoulder for the washcloth.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He bit the side of Peyton's neck playfully, a chuckle escaping his mouth when a growl escaped Peyton's stomach. "Hungry?"

"Starving, actually." She thought about her ill-forgotten bowl of Cheerios and her stomach growled anew. Maybe she should've been less preoccupied with sex and more with food. Her priorities were not what they should be. Then she thought about the shower sex she and Lucas had just engaged in and a wicked smile quirked her lips.

"There's somewhere I want to take you tonight."

She glanced over her shoulder at him. "You mean you're going to take me _out_?" The prospect filled her with glee. In all the time they had been together, they'd never been out to dinner. They'd attempted it on several occasions but had always settled for takeout and that was usually cold by the time they got around to it.

"I should've done it before now. I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay. I understand. You said your first week at the dealership would be time-consuming."

He hauled her close. "Just so you know, I didn't forget about you."

She grinned, teasing, "Liar. You totally did."

"Did not." He paused. "Okay, maybe a little." He kissed her then and this time he was unable to resist the urge to take her again.

—

_Karen's Café._

Peyton told herself as Lucas led her up the steps to the front door that the eatery couldn't belong to his mother because he would've told her about it. However, when they walked in and Peyton spotted Karen operating the cash register, she turned to Lucas, chastising, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted to bring you myself. I knew if I told you about this place that you would've been here with my mom everyday while I was at work."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"It is a bad thing. She would've brought out the photo albums. Need I say more?"

"Photo albums, you say."

Lucas pointed a finger at her as he saw his mother approach them out of the corner of his eye. "Don't even think about it," he told her.

"Am I interrupting?" Karen asked, obviously hesitant to interrupt them.

Lucas leaned over and kissed his mother's cheek as he told her, "Don't be ridiculous." Lucas looked around, noting the filled tables, the noise level moderate considering most of the clientele consisted of teenagers and college students. "I see it's busy in here tonight. Are there any tables open?"

"You came here to eat?"

Karen sounded surprised, Peyton noted. Apparently, Lucas didn't come here to eat. She begun to think that odd, then saw the huge espresso machine. Lucas _did_ like his coffee. She snapped back to the conversation when Lucas said, "I wanted to show Peyton the place. Let her see you in action."

"You picked a hell of a night, Lucas. You know how Saturdays are."

"If you're shorthanded, I could always help out," Peyton offered, catching both Karen and Lucas off guard. Before Lucas could ask, she informed him, "I waitressed a few summers."

Karen flashed Peyton a wide smile. "I won't take you up on that tonight but maybe during the week. Tonight you're on a date with my son so I couldn't possibly ask you to wait for me." She motioned for them to follow her. "Come with me."

"My favorite spot," Lucas said when Karen placed them in a booth right in front of the window. He waited until Peyton sat down before he took a seat himself.

"I knew you'd like it. I'll be back in about five minutes to take your orders. Drinks, first?"

"Iced Tea," the both of them said at the exact time.

"Well that's easy to remember," Karen said, foregoing her pad and pen. "Be right back."

After his mom had left them alone, he told Peyton, "You know you didn't have to do that—offer to help out."

"I don't mind. What else am I going do while I'm here? My work only takes up an hour or two. The rest of the time, I'm itching for something to do. And I am just not the type to sit in front of the television with the soap operas all day long. Plus, it'll give me a chance to get to know your mom better."

"I wish you would've told me that you were bored."

Peyton rushed to defend herself. She didn't want him to think that she wasn't enjoying her time in Tree Hill. The last few days notwithstanding, she loved being here with him. "I'm not bored. Not really. Mostly I think I'm just starved for company."

"And it doesn't help that your boyfriend is a deserter."

"Hey, I knew what I was in for when I came here. You were coming to work, to fill in for your dad. There was never a point where I thought we'd lay about in bed all day."

His lips curved into a cunning smile. "That does sound nice."

"It does, doesn't it?"

Karen returned with the drinks then, setting the glasses on the table between them. "So, do you know what you want? Or should I come back?" She had the sinking suspicion that they hadn't accomplished much menu browsing since she'd left them a few minutes ago.

Lucas presented her with a wry grin. "We haven't even looked at the menu."

Karen nodded and walked away, returning to her post at the counter. There she watched as Lucas reached over and took Peyton's hands in his, gently squeezing them. She hadn't seen her son this happy in a very long time. He and Peyton were good for each other, that much was clear. Was it love? She couldn't say for sure, but whatever feelings Lucas and Peyton had for one another it wasn't simple or easy. Nor would it be considering Lucas's past, the vendetta his brother had against him. She loved her son, but he'd done a stupid thing. Haley was like a daughter to her but the two—romantically—were ill suited. Luckily, Lucas had gone on to find someone that matched him (as far as she could tell) better.

Returning to the table to take their orders, Karen wasn't surprised that they ordered one plate and decided on it to go.

—

Peyton was returning from her morning walk on the beach when she entered the house to find Lily waiting for her. The teenager was sitting at the table in the kitchen with a bag of white powdered doughnuts—Lucas's favorite. "If you eat that whole bag, your brother is going to hurt you."

"He can buy him another," she said, stuffing a full doughnut in her mouth. Peyton gaped at her, amazed that something so small could scarf down that many doughnuts in the span of a few minutes. "Muk?" Lily inquired.

It took Peyton a moment to understand that she was asking for milk. She grabbed the half-gallon out of the refrigerator and set it beside Lily on the table, then moved to the cupboard for a glass. When she turned back, Lily had the carton upturned and was drinking straight from the spout. Like brother, like sister, she mused.

"Shouldn't you be in school?"

Lily shook her head, setting aside the milk carton and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Spring vacation started yesterday."

"And you were bored?"

She shrugged. "I wanted to talk to you."

That sounded ominous. Peyton slid into a chair; she figured she had better be sitting down for this. With a wave of her hand, she said, "I'm listening…but if this involves sex or anything illegal, I'm so out of here."

"Nothing like that. You see… there's this boy I like," Lily started.

Peyton breathed a sigh of relief. Boys. She could talk about boys. She liked boys. She'd always wanted a sister of her own for this very thing—girl talk. She was dancing on the inside with glee and excitement. "He doesn't like you back?" she inquired kindly. Wasn't that always the case?

"No, no… he does. He's just… _older_."

"How much older are we talking?" Peyton asked, fearing that Lily was talking about Tim.

"It's not who you think," Lily told her. Peyton heaved a relieved sigh. "No, he's a senior. My mom would never let me date him. I thought that maybe you could…"

Peyton cut Lily off before she even complete her sentence. "Oh, Lily, I can't. It's not my place. You're her daughter and frankly, if you were mine I wouldn't allow you to date a senior either. They're older and more experienced." She stopped talking for a second, fearing that she'd scared the girl from telling her anything further; this was too juicy a conversation to pass up. "Is he cute?" she found herself asking.

"So cute," Lily answered, dragging out the O. "He plays basketball. I mean, mostly he sits on the bench. I keep telling Skills that he needs to give Adam a chance, but he tells me to mind my pom-poms."

"You're a cheerleader?" Peyton knew that was surprise in her voice. She knew she shouldn't be that shocked—the girl was all legs.

Lily rolled her shoulders dispassionately. "My mom was a cheerleader. At first, I didn't want to be a part of that scene. I didn't like the attention, guys pursuing me because I wore a short little skirt and could kick my legs over my head. But I have brothers, you know? Nathan and Lucas dated the whole team between them so the girls were always at the house doing cartwheels, practicing splits… I learned to like it."

"I was a cheerleader, too," Peyton heard herself confessing. God, why'd I say that, she wondered an instant later.

"Really?"

She nodded but said nothing further. To get the conversation back on track, Peyton prompted Lily, "So tell me more about this Adam."

"He's smart and very sweet. He seems to like me. Unfortunately he knows that my brother is his coach's best friend so I think that's why he's not asking me out."

"If he hasn't asked you out yet, why are you worried about your mom telling you that you can't date him?"

"I like to have all my bases covered," she clarified.

Peyton couldn't stop herself from asking the obvious. "There are no boys in your grade that you could date?"

Lily huffed, "Peyton, have you _seen_ freshman boys? They're not pretty. And they're so immature." Lily visibly shivered, appalled at the thought of dating a boy in her grade.

Laughing, Peyton conceded, "Okay. Point taken. You could always get this boy jealous by pretending to be interested in another."

"Make him jealous?"

"Girls do it all the time."

Peyton watched Lily mull over the thought. "You know," she finally said, "there's this guy in my English class who might do." Then, the thought occurring to her, she asked, "Is that how you got Lucas?"

"No. Lucas and I… it was a mutual pursuit."

They both stood up as Lily told Peyton, "I have no idea what that means, but that's probably best."

"Probably," Peyton agreed. Peyton waited for Lily to start making her way to the door, but she didn't move. Apparently, she had more to say. Peyton dropped back into her seat. "What's wrong?"

"I kind of… there's something I want to ask you. It's really why I came. I just wanted your opinion on the Adam thing. Usually I talk to Haley but... Anyway."

Peyton chided herself on being the bigger person and that's what she was going to do now. She still wasn't comfortable talking about Haley but Lily didn't know that. Haley had been a part of her life forever and evidently, the two had been close. She was somewhat hesitant at this turn in conversation, and drawled out, "Okay." This talk was making her more uncomfortable the second. She wondered if Lucas knew Lily was here. What would he say? Would he be okay with her talking to Lily, giving her advice? Great time to start pondering those questions now, she thought.

"Well… Lucas said that you know a lot of people and that you have some of the best artists on your label."

"That's right." Oh, I know where this was going, she thought, amused.

Nervous, Lily pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. She didn't want Peyton to reject her, but she went ahead and asked anyway. "I guess what I want to know is… could you get me Chris Keller's autograph?"

—

Lucas walked into his dad's hospital room and stopped short. Sitting beside his dad on the bed was his brother. As usual, Dan's excitement at seeing Nathan was palpable; it was written all over Dan's face. "I brought you lunch," he said a little idiotically. Lucas was pretty sure his mom had called to inform Dan that he was bringing lunch. Why hadn't he mentioned Nathan being here? Did Dan want to see his two sons throw down in his hospital room?

"Come in, Lucas. Sit down," Dan urged with a wave of his hand.

After battling the impulse to run, Lucas circled the bed, glaring at his brother the entire time. Nathan had that stupid smirk on his face that Lucas was just _dying_ to slap off. One good slap was all it would take. Just one. The night that Nathan had barged into his room and found him and Haley they'd pummeled each other senseless. Sadly, it hadn't been enough. Not nearly enough. He handed Dan the bag, inquiring, "How are you doing today?"

"Better now that the two of you are here. The only one missing is Little Bit." No one could say that Dan Scott didn't love his kids, Lucas thought glumly.

Lucas grinned at hearing his dad's special nickname for Lily. Though, he never used it in her presence. "If she ever found out that you called her that, you'd never leave the hospital."

"Don't I know it," Dan said as he dug into the bag, extracting a garden salad. Frowning, he turned the bag upside down, hoping to find dressing; sadly, his wife was sticking by the doctor's orders. Stupid doctor and his health conscious bullshit. Like salad dressing was really going to hurt. He grumbled as he set the salad on his tray and pushed it away. Lucas gave him a look, but he ignored it.

He'd tried to eat healthy after his last heart attack, but frankly, health food sucked. Maybe he should have tried harder. After all, he had a wife and three children to think about. What would happen to them if he died? Especially Lucas and Nathan. They had barely spoken in three years. At one time, they had been as close as best friends. He longed for those days back, when he had to pull them away from each other. In an effort to get them talking, he said, "Nathan's playing a charity game at the high school this weekend."

"You're a few days early, aren't you?"

Dan glowered at Lucas as Nathan said, "There's some… _personal_ business I have to take care of."

Lucas rolled his eyes. "Of course. God… when are you going to grow up? That shit happened _years_ ago. I fucked up, yes, but I owned up to it. When are you going to own up to the part that you played?"

With the stealth of a tiger, Nathan slid off the bed, his voice steely and low as he told Lucas, "I didn't do a damn thing."

"Yeah, you were an innocent—and I'm Anne Rice. Try again."

"You had no right to get involved, Lucas. It wasn't your place. It was between me and Haley."

"Haley came to _me_, when she caught you pants down—literally—with one of your hangers-on. That's not my fault. She couldn't rely on you, but she knew who she could rely on."

The two brothers were so involved in their argument they didn't see their sister enter the room. They didn't see the horrified look on her face nor how she zipped across the room to their father's side. They were completely oblivious to his distress.

"That's enough," Dan yelled, pleased when his sons ended their tirade. "You sound like a couple of girls, bitching and bickering at each other all the long live long day. Yap, yap, yap, yap, yap. You're grown men. Act like it, why don't you? It's no wonder I have a bad heart, having to put up with the two of you and this shit. Drop the attitudes or hit the door," he yelled at them, flashing his daughter a quick, apologetic smile, thankful when she patted his hand and whispered, "It's okay, Daddy."

"He started it," Lucas and Nathan grumbled at the same time.

"You're both being asses," Lily piped in from Dan's side.

Lucas and Nathan exchanged a look, but it was Lucas who said, "When'd you get here?"

"Does it matter? I got to see the show. I expected this from Nathan, but not you, Lucas."

"Hey!" Nathan objected.

"I'm sorry," Lucas apologized, though it was a moot point now.

"Get out. Both of you," she ordered. "Dad needs his rest and he can't rest peacefully with the two of you here, ready to bash each other's heads in. Go."

They both started to object but saw that Lily meant business. Lucas and Nathan bid their father and sister goodbye, and walked out into the hallway. "You should stay," Lucas said when Nathan turned to walk away. "He hasn't seen you in a long time. Stay. Visit with him. It might make him more bearable for the nurses." He tried to smile but the action fell flat, then he spun on his heel and headed toward the elevator.

Nathan let Lucas get a few feet away before he called out to him. He waited until Lucas was facing him again before he taunted, "Tell Peyton I said hello."


	7. Shameless Use of Charm

Disclaimer: One Tree Hill and its characters belong to Mark Schwahn, The CW, etc. I'm simply whoring them for my own amusement.

Spoilers/Warnings: I'm screwing with pretty much everything in the OTH verse. For now if you've seen S1, you're golden.

Summary: AU. A one night stand blossoms into much more than Lucas and Peyton originally bargained for.

A/N: I promise that the focus on Lily will end soon. She's not just filler, but in order to get to certain parts of the story, she's beneficial. That said, Nathan was never meant to make a menace of himself until this chapter. Feedback is love.

—

**07. Shameless Use of Charm**

Lily was fluffing Dan's pillow when Nathan walked back into the room. She shot her brother a glare. "I thought I told you to leave," she ground out through clenched teeth, annoyed that he hadn't listened to her. Of course, when did Nathan ever take orders well?

"Lucas thought I should stay," Nathan informed her smugly. He ignored his sister and looked at his dad who was preoccupied with the scenery outside. "I'm sorry... about that. Lucas just..."

Dan stopped him with a steely look. "I'm not interested in hearing it, Nathan. This feud with your brother... it needs to end. I've seen Lucas bend over backwards to try to reason with you. He's made his apologies. He knows what he did was wrong and he's paid his dues. You should cut him some slack."

"Wow," Nathan breathed. "I shouldn't be surprised that you're taking up for Lucas."

Dan thundered, "I'm not taking up for either one of you. You both have some growing up to do, but getting back at him, which I suspect is what you have planned, is only going to backfire on you."

"Well that'll be on my conscience, now won't it?" Nathan felt the anger welling up inside of him, the disappointment and resentment that had been building for as long as he could remember. "And, you know, that's funny coming from you considering what happened with Mom and Uncle Keith. I still don't understand how you could forgive them-and you were _married_."

Lily could see that her dad was reaching his breaking point as he often did with Nathan. He was proud of Nathan's accomplishments and boasted of them until he was blue in the face, but the two were constant warring with one another. She started to tell her father to calm down, to mind his heart and his monitors but he sent her a look that said, "Don't." So, she didn't. She stayed at his side, though. Just in case.

"This isn't you. I didn't raise you to be this way."

"You didn't raise me much at all, did you, Dad?"

Dan sucked in a breath. "That's-"

"You know what? Spare me the melodrama. You abandoned me when you left mom for Karen. You chose her and Lucas over us."

"Your mom and I..."

"I've heard the story. Don't bother explaining. I may be the son able to take your dream of basketball and run with it, but Lucas is the Wonder Boy. I'll try not to hurt him too much." Nathan spun toward the door.

"Nathan!" Dan watched Nathan take a deep breath before facing him. "I never thought... I never thought that you cared about Haley that much. I thought it was just... sibling rivalry, you know? I thought you only went after her to make a point to your brother that you could."

"Seems to me that you made one assumption too many, Dad."

—

Leaving the hospital, Nathan felt so much rage that he had half a mind to go down to the dealership and beat his angelic brother senseless. What good would that do? Lucas still wouldn't know how it felt to watch something he loved ripped away.

Slipping into his car, he slammed the door shut behind himself, smacking his hand against the steering wheel in aggravation, huffing and puffing with exertion. He lifted up the console but didn't reach for the picture that he kept there of him, Haley and Lucas. Surprising as it was, he and his brother hadn't always had this dog-eat-dog relationship.

They'd started off hating each other, sure, but that's because they were pitted against each other, thanks in part to their mother's rivalry. That hadn't been their fault. No one but Dan could be blamed for that, for loving one woman and marrying another.

For as long as he could remember his parents hadn't gotten along and _Karen_ had been thrown around in every argument the two ever had. He remembered the day that Dan was leaving, his parting words to Deb: "She's the one I should have married. It should have never been you." Those words had destroyed his mother. In the wake of a drug addiction and her subsequent hospitalization, he'd had to live with his father and stepmother and the half-brother he never wanted to know.

He was five when Dan had left his mom for Karen and though he had some residual anger directed at her, the two had managed to form a special bond. When his mom had been discharged from her facility and invited him back home, he had declined; he was happy where he was. That didn't make the situation better, but she'd come to accept it. By that time, the family had expanded to include Lily and him and Lucas often fought over their baby sister. Although they had been put off by what a noisemaker she turned out to be.

Throughout middle school and junior high school, he and Lucas had been as thick as thieves-inseparable. In high school, they went their separate ways, Nathan to play basketball, Lucas to dabble in literary works. They led separate lives, but somehow retained their close friendship. There was sports, there was their friends, there were girls... there was Haley.

Haley James had been a part of their lives forever, but it wasn't until the latter part of their junior year that Nathan took notice. He remembered it as if it was yesterday, sitting in class, listening to Haley give a speech about phylums, of all things. Rapt, her soft voice filtered past all the bullshit and bluster to settle warmly in his heart. Lucas, Haley's best friend, hadn't been too keen when he'd confessed his attraction-and convincing Haley to go out with him was no walk in the park, either.

Lucas warned him not to hurt Haley, otherwise wishing him luck. They dated for two years and were happy for the most part. They had any young couple's problems, but basketball became their biggest obstacles. That and the girls.

He never sought out to cheat on Haley. The first time was a fluke. The girl had broken into his hotel room and he hadn't the heart to show her the door. It became an obsession after that, to hook up with a girl during his away games. In the beginning, he'd been discreet, but as time went on he got careless and news of his activities after the games reached campus, then Haley.

The first time she confronted him he'd managed to flirt his way out of it, saying that rumors were rumors, that he'd probably hurt a girl's feelings when he'd rebuffed her. But the seed of doubt had already been planted and when Haley kept on hearing the rumors, saw the way that girls flashed her sympathetic looks, she knew the truth. Yet she didn't break up with him. She just...ignored it. She cried to Lucas, yes, and the two of them had it out more times than he liked to count, but she never broke up with him. That's when he knew he didn't deserve her.

Then came that night.

Haley had plans with her girlfriends so he'd made plans for a hook up at his dorm. He'd told her he'd be studying all night, so he was surprised when she walked in while he and Vicki (or was it Micki? Ricki?) were in the throes. She'd called him an asshole, and then bolted. It took him five minutes to process what had happened before he went after her. He knew she'd run straight to Lucas.

Dan had had his first heart attack that year and Lucas had left school to fill in for him at the dealership. He was living at home again, working on becoming a published author in his spare time. He was shopping his first novel to several publishers and everyone was waiting expectantly for news. Including Nathan. He was proud of his brother and didn't begrudge him his success. Hell, they were both successful in their own right.

When he'd walked into Lucas's room, he had expected to find Haley in Luke's arms, crying, cursing him lower than dirt. What he _hadn't_ expected was to get VIP seats to see Haley fucking his brother-he hadn't been prepared for that. Nothing had felt worse, before or since.

Never before had he been able to say he knew how his Dad felt. Now he knew.

He'd forgiven Haley because he had let himself believe that they still had a chance. He could forgive her for her lapse in judgment in regards to Lucas. In return, he hoped that eventually she would forgive him for everything he'd done, all the lies, all the women. They'd discussed reconciling, trying to put their tattered relationship to rights, but then she said she couldn't... that she was confused. That there was Lucas to consider. He'd realized it then, what he'd been so blind to before. Haley was in love with his brother. Maybe she was in love with both of them. He didn't know, couldn't be sure. He sure as hell wasn't going to be stupid enough to ask. Truthfully, he didn't really want her answer.

After that, he knew he could never forgive Lucas.

The plan had begun to take root in his head. It wasn't just about making Lucas pay, he wanted Lucas to feel the same pain he'd felt. He knew Lucas would fall in love one day, but he'd anticipated it happening sooner, to be honest. However, he'd played his hand too soon, warned his brother of his impending retribution and Lucas had outsmarted him. He'd engaged in meaningless one-night stands to prevent himself from getting involved too deeply. That's what he didn't understand. Why this girl? Why Peyton? What made her different from all the others?

Leaving the hospital, Nathan found himself heading in the direction of Lucas's beach house instead of the property he'd leased on the other side of town. He parked in the lot of the apartment complex across the street and waited to glimpse Peyton. She had to come out of the house sooner or later, right? He was curious as to who this woman was that had miraculously managed to capture his brother's black heart.

He was there almost an hour and was about ready to forget about it when the mail carrier approached the door with a package. He sat forward, waiting for when she would open the door. Was she blonde? Brunette? Short? Tall? Was she a writer like him? He'd intended to pump his kid sister for information at the hospital but then Dan had started harping on him and he'd totally forgotten, having left in a tiff.

At first, he couldn't see much. The mailman was standing directly in front of her, blocking his view. They were awful chatty, he mused, growing more annoyed the longer the two carried on their conversation. What could they be talking about anyhow? The weather? The indomitable Lucas? The damn package? At long last, the mailman stepped away from the door. "Lucas, you lucky dog," Nathan murmured to himself.

Peyton was tall and gorgeous with a creamy complexion and hair that was somewhere between blonde and brunette. Her hair was in one of those floppy buns that girls sported on their lazy days and she was wearing a shirt that Nathan recognized as belonging to Lucas and a pair of _very_ short shorts. He shamelessly ogled her as she returned to the house and he got to see the back of her.

"Well, won't this be fun."

—

Returning to his office after resolving a dispute between two employees, Lucas was settling at his desk with a mid-afternoon snack when his phone beeped, signaling a new text message. Smiling, he reached into his pocket for it, figuring it was Peyton. His smile faded when he saw that it was from Nathan. His thumb hovered over delete. One click and it would be gone. He would never know what his brother said. Curiosity got the best of him, prompting him to open it.

_She's pretty, Luke. Enjoy her while you can._

Lucas fisted his phone between his fingers, somehow resisting the urge to fling it across the room. Nathan was declaring war. If it was war his brother wanted, then war it was.

—

Peyton had been ecstatic to receive the call from Karen that morning to help at the café. Three of her workers had come down with a nasty stomach flu and she was short handed. Eager to get out of the beach house, Peyton had quickly complied, showing up at the diner during the middle of the lunch rush. Now, as it neared three and only a handful of tables were occupied, Peyton was able to take a breath.

"I really appreciate this, Peyton," Karen told her.

"I was happy to help. Happy to get out of the beach house, too. I was ready to pull out my hair, I was so bored," Peyton said, leaning back against the counter.

"I hate to ask but do you think you can handle things by yourself for about a half-hour? I need to go make a deposit at the bank and I want to swing up the hospital and visit Dan." Lily had called to tell her about the confrontation between her brothers, going on to say that Dan hadn't said much after his own exchange with Nathan. She wanted to check up on him.

Peyton looked around at the deserted tables and assured Karen, "I'll be fine. Go ahead and do what you need to do."

Karen grabbed her purse from beneath the counter. "If you need me just call. My number's taped to the side of the register." She rounded the counter, waving to Peyton as she disappeared out the door.

An hour later Peyton was still by herself. Dan was undergoing tests and Karen was waiting for him to be returned to his room. Peyton assured Karen that she had the café under control and to take her time. She'd just hung up with Karen when she heard the bell above the door jingle, announcing a new patron.

Peyton turned to her new customer, and though his eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses, she recognized him instantly. She'd never met him, but she'd seen a dozen pictures of him. Nathan Scott stood before her, almost as handsome as his brother. Almost. Good looks ran in the family, didn't they?

"Can I help you?" she asked, watching as he slid onto a stool at the counter, his eyes never wavering from her. Did she have something on her face? _Oh, God._ Were her nipples showing through her shirt? It _was_ a little cold...

"You know who I am," he said, slipping his glasses atop the beak of the baseball cap he wore. "Now the question is, is it because you're a basketball fan or because you know the family?"

Apparently, he wasn't the only one staring. Repentant, Peyton deadpanned, "Do I look like a basketball fan?"

Nathan gaped at her quite shamelessly, amused at how she fidgeted under his scrutiny. "Not in the least," he admitted freely. "That can only mean, then, that you know my family." Nathan didn't allow her the time to answer before he went on to ask, "So how long have you been working for Karen?"

"Not long," Peyton answered automatically. She wondered if she should be talking to him, carrying on this conversation. Maybe she should just take his order and leave him be. She knew that Nathan and Lucas didn't get along, that something had happened with Haley. If he found out that she spoke to his brother, he may not be happy. Regardless, just because Lucas had an ongoing spat with his brother didn't mean that she was going to be rude to him as well. What purpose would that serve? Besides, he was a customer.

Nathan smiled on the inside, but kept his reaction shadowed on the outside. He leaned forward. "Since you're familiar with the Scott family you wouldn't happen to know this girl that my brother is dating, would you? My brother and I... we don't get along, but I'm curious about her. It's not every day that a girl steals his heart." Nathan watched a blush color her skin.

Had she stolen Lucas's heart? She couldn't be sure of that. He was a hard one to decipher, keeping everything all bottled up inside. She informed Nathan, "Um, that's actually... me. I'm dating Lucas."

Nathan feigned surprise. "You don't say." Giving her another onceover, he said, "Forgive me for saying so, but you don't seem his type."

"He has a type?"

"If brunettes are a type."

She turned away, no doubt hiding her reaction from him. He'd thrown down the gauntlet on purpose, intending to taunt her about Haley. He had no way to know if Lucas had told her about what had happened a few years ago, but if he knew his brother, Lucas hadn't said a word. That was good for him. It left him with more ammunition.

Peyton was confused as their last few exchanges sank in. "If you don't speak to your brother, how do you know about me?"

"My sister," Nathan supplied helpfully. "She's quite a Chatty Cathy." Nathan would always be grateful for his sister's loose lips. Lily had been so ecstatic that Lucas was back in town that she hadn't censored herself. Sure, once the damage was done she had begged and cajoled him to forget every little tidbit that she'd disclosed. As if.

Lily. Of course. That made sense. "And what did your sister say about me?"

"Believe it or not Lily didn't say much. She said that you were nice and that Lucas seemed to like you. A lot."

"I would be insulted if he liked me only a tad."

Nathan liked her. Not just as a possible conquest. Not just as redemption. He genuinely liked her. Yes, he may need to get to know her a little better, but he was a good judge of people. His instincts hadn't betrayed him before, he doubt they would now. "Do you love my brother?"

Peyton blew out a breath and took a step back. "Wow. You just fast-forward to the hard questions, don't you?"

"I don't see the necessity in beating around the bush. You don't get the answers you desire if you tiptoe around the subject."

"Still it's personal and we just met."

"So you like my brother a lot, eh?"

Peyton glanced up at the door, wishing that a new customer would walk in. When her wish wasn't granted, she returned her attention back to Nathan, answering, "I like him a lot."

"Touche."

"Did you come here to eat or just to get the goods on your brother's girlfriend?"

Nathan replaced his glasses on his face, countering as he stood up, "Do you flirt with every guy that sits here and talks to you?" With an abashed grin, he disappeared out the door, leaving Peyton gaping behind him.

—

Peyton was setting the table when Lucas returned from work. He was still seething from his brother's deriding text message, but he masked it, putting on a smile as he closed the door behind himself. He pulled off his jacket as he made his way into the kitchen, dinner's sweet aroma teasing his nostrils. "That smells wonderful," he greeted Peyton, pressing a kiss to the cheek she gave him.

"Are you hungry?"

"Starved."

"Weren't you able to get away for lunch?"

"Not today, no," he said tightly, remembering the altercation with his brother at the hospital. Why he let Nathan get to him like that, he didn't know. It just needed to stop.

"Then it's a good thing I cooked," she said, rather happily. She pushed a beer bottle into his hand and continued dancing attendance on her food.

He leaned against the counter, taking a sip from the bottle. "How was your day at the café?" When he'd stopped by the café to pick up his dad's lunch his mother had told him that she'd called Peyton, begging her for help. He knew that Peyton would turn his mother down but for the life of him he didn't understand why his mother didn't put Lily to work, seeing that she had the week off school.

"It was really great," Peyton answered giddily, pushing oven mitts onto her hands. "I was so ready to get out of the house. People around here are really, really nice. I wasn't expecting that."

"What, did you think they'd pull you out into the street and start throwing stones at you?" he smirked, amused. He didn't know Peyton was so insecure. It was humbling.

"No. Just...people know you. I thought they'd view me as an outsider."

"Honey, this isn't L.A. People don't think less of you because you weren't raised here. They'll just grill you endlessly on where you were."

Peyton took the chicken out of the oven, placing it, carefully, on the stovetop. She pulled off her mitts, throwing them on the counter. She debated telling him about her meeting with Nathan, the hour they'd spent talking. If you consider their exchange a talk, it was more like an inquisition. The brothers were estranged. Did she want to be the cause of further strife between them? In the end, she decided that she had no desire to keep secrets from Lucas, regarding his brother or otherwise. Facing him, she saw that he'd moved to the back door and pushed open the French doors. Leaning against the doorjamb, she told him, "I have to tell you something."

Lucas took his eyes off the sunset to set them on Peyton. He turned around fully, setting himself against the railing, crossing his arms over his chest. "Okay."

"I met your brother today. He came into the café while I was working. We talked."

Lucas swallowed, a feat considering the lump that had formed in his throat. "What'd he say?" he finally managed.

"He wanted to know about me."

"Of course he did," Lucas muttered under his breath. Apparently, he had said it loud enough because Peyton was looking at him strangely.

"I thought it was strange since the two of you don't speak, but he said that Lily told him about me. He was curious. You can't fault him for that, Luke," she insisted, perturbed to find herself in Nathan's camp. Truth was if her and Derek were on the outs and she'd found out that he was dating someone new she would've gone to the same extremes as Nathan.

Sighing, Lucas told her, "Nathan can't be trusted."

"He seemed harmless," she remained adamant.

"Well he's not," he roared, hating himself afterward. He was taking his anger out on her when it wasn't her fault. None of it was her fault. Nathan was the one who deserved to be on the receiving end of his tirade, not her. "He's charming, Peyton and he'll use that charm to do whatever and get whatever he can. Even if it's you."

She rolled her eyes. "Your brother is not after me. You're being ridiculous."

"Am I? Nathan and I have fought over everything. Our father, our friends, our sister. Girls were just the tip of the iceberg. He blames me for the dissolution of his relationship with Haley. I interfered when I shouldn't have. He never forgave me for that."

Peyton slid away from the door, joining him out on the patio. "You were never clear as to how Nathan mistreated Haley. Did he..." She found that she couldn't voice the question. Part of her didn't even really want to know. She didn't want to feel sympathetic for Haley.

He jumped in, "Hit her? No, no. Nathan would never. They were talking marriage before scouts started paying attention to him. He never proposed-it didn't get that far, but Nathan always had girls fawning all over him. It didn't matter that he had Haley or if she was around or not. He lapped up the attention, reveled in it. It became the subject of many arguments between them. I think the first time he cheated it was a mistake. He swore to it. That the girl broke into his hotel room. Then later... Haley heard the whisperings and the rumors. She tried to ignore it but when she walked in on him with someone else, she couldn't take it anymore." _Then she came to me and we both forgot about Nathan. Until he walked in._

"Wow. I can't believe a brother of yours would treat the woman that he claimed to love like that."

"People love yet they have no idea how to show love. Nathan's one of those people."

"I can't believe the two of you couldn't find a way to overcome that. It seems inconsequential."

Of course, it does, Lucas thought, I'm not telling you the whole story. Here was his chance to lay it all on the line. He could tell her right now, unburden himself, admit to the lies and half-truths he'd told her. He opened his mouth to start confessing, but instead, he said, "Stay away from him, Peyton."

Something niggled at the edge of her conscience, that there was a better reason for Lucas and Nathan's estrangement, something that was much more than Lucas's desire to protect his best friend from his brother. She felt something was remiss and wondered why Lucas refused to confide in her. Her hands behind her back, fingers crossed on one of them, she promised, "I'll stay away."

—

"Nathan's completely off his rocker, Lucas. You have to do something," Lily exclaimed as she burst into her brother's study.

Lucas flashed his sister an irritated look. This was what he'd warned Peyton about, the constant presence of his family. Specifically, his sister. Thankfully, Peyton was helping his mom at the café so there was no chance on her eavesdropping.

So much for stealing some time to write, he thought to himself. He hadn't done much writing since he'd been back from Europe, but he'd been tossing some new ideas around in his head. There was nothing that he wanted to run with yet, but writing for him was as essential as breathing. He loved seeing his words come alive on the page, watching the characters become real, the story unfold. Storytelling would have to wait, for now there was Lily to reckon with. He shut his laptop as Lily fell onto the ottoman in the corner. "What happened now?" With Nathan, there was innumerable possibilities.

"Nathan totally went off on Dad after you left yesterday. I've never seen Dad look like he did. So... defeated. Like he finally realized that Nathan's going to do whatever he can to get back at you, no matter the price. Why'd you have to go and boink Haley anyway? You screwed everything up!"

"Boink?" he repeated, frowning at such a distasteful word coming out of his sister's mouth. He shook his head. Mulling over his sister's vocabulary wasn't pressing now-Nathan was. "Things aren't always simple and nice, Lily. Things happen. People make mistakes. Including me. I'm not perfect."

"Peyton will be so disappointed to learn that. Because she thinks you are." She scowled at her brother, slowly realizing, "You haven't told her yet, have you, Luke?"

Lucas shook his head. "No, she doesn't know and you better not tell her."

"I'm not getting involved. That's your mess. Besides I don't think it's me you're going to have to worry about." She quieted for a moment, staring hard at her brother. It was evident that Lucas was not taking Nathan's presence in town as a good thing. At least he was prepared. "He's going to do whatever he can to hurt you, you know that, right?"

"I'm well aware, Lily. He's been threatening me for years. Before I didn't care. That was before Peyton."

"Then you better figure out what you're going to do. Nathan won't think twice about telling Peyton about you and Haley and you can bet that he'll make it out to be your fault. Which it was."

He was amused, despite the severity of the situation. "You're so helpful."

Lily grinned happily, holding her hands wide. "I try."

Lucas watched as Lily started fumbling with the silver bracelet around her wrist, recognizing it as the gift he'd gotten her for her last birthday. Speaking of, her birthday was coming up in a matter of weeks. He hadn't been around for the day in years, not since he and Nathan had become bitter enemies. "Your birthday's coming up," he said, eager to veer the subject away from Nathan. His brother occupied enough of his thoughts as it was.

"Yep."

"Do you have any plans? A party?"

Lily shot him a disgruntled look. "Lucas, I'm too old for a birthday party." More to the point, there was no way she'd be able to outdo Marissa's Sweet Sixteen. Her dad had not only surprised her with the Mustang Convertible that she now drove around in, but with a party on a yacht. At exactly 11:21PM, the time Marissa was born, fireworks had lit up the sky over the harbor. It sickened Lily to think about it, actually. There was no way that she could top that. Not that she had a desire to anyway.

Lucas wasn't giving up that easily. "You're never too old for a party. Besides, you're turning sixteen. That's a big deal for girls." She glared at him. "Why don't you want a party? Is it because of dad?"

She shied away from him, not wanting to admit that that was part of it. Her dad had been at every birthday, unlike Lucas, since she was born. It made her not want to celebrate, knowing that he'd be rotting away in a hospital bed, miserable, while they partied it up. She wasn't so naïve to believe that by some miracle the hospital would discharge him.

"He wouldn't want you to miss out on celebrating your birthday just because he's laid up in the hospital." Lucas watched her take a deep breath and could tell that she was getting frustrated with him. He knew when to shut up. "You don't have to decide about the party now. We'll talk about presents. You love presents. If you could have one thing, what would it be? There's got to be something that you want."

Lily started to tell him that, no, there was nothing she wanted. She wanted a million things. Not to have to go to school again. A date with Adam Erickson. Her brothers to reconcile. Instead, she found herself saying, "Yeah, there's something I want and you're the person to get it for me."

—

"No. Absolutely not!" Peyton exclaimed, grimacing at Lucas over the counter after he'd poised the question. Had he lost his ever-loving mind? Obviously, he had or else he wouldn't have made such a ridiculous request. Mumbling to herself, she turned around and headed toward the storage room. Maybe by the time she returned Lucas would have gone and she could forget their conversation.

She wasn't that lucky.

Lucas followed Peyton as she moved to the back of the café, completely ignoring him. Entering the backroom, watching as Peyton reached onto a shelf for napkins, he told her, "It's for Lily's birthday. I know it's a big favor to ask for someone you barely know, but do you really want it to be on your conscience that you could've gotten her favorite musician to play and didn't?"

Peyton groaned, facing him. He was playing the guilt card, damn him. "Lucas, you don't understand. I would do this for Lily in a heartbeat, but this is Chris Keller we're talking about. He's the most annoying thing to come around since reality TV. Plus, ex-boyfriend, hello or have you forgotten?"

"It's pretty much seared into my brain, thank you. I wouldn't ask but, this is the only way she'll consent to having a party."

"It's her birthday, shouldn't it be her decision?"

"She's doing it because my dad can't be there. They have a whole ritual that they do every year on Lily's birthday-breakfast, a marathon of _Friends_. I know my sister and I know that it's disappointing to think that he won't be there to celebrate this big day with her." He knew he wasn't getting any headway, so he changed tactics. "Did you have a Sweet Sixteen party?"

She nodded. "Yep." Where were the bendy straws? She couldn't find them for the life of her.

"Well, was it memorable?" he inquired, leaning against the shelf beside her.

She leveled a stare at him. "I lost my virginity that night. Anything else you would like to know?"

"Huh. I didn't expect that."

"When did you expect I lost my virginity? Senior prom?"

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

She grinned, conceding. "If you drop this line of conversation, I'll call Chris and see what I can do."

"Consider it done," he said, quickly, leaning over to kiss her cheek. "Thank you."

Peyton watched him saunter out of the room with a promise to call her later. She pulled out her cell, groaning to herself as she flipped it open and began scrolling through her contacts for Chris's number. Unsurprisingly he answered on the first ring. "What did I do now?"

Grinding her teeth was all Peyton could do to keep her temper in check. She hated the thought of Chris coming to Tree Hill, but looked on the bright side-if Chris was in town she could unleash some of her aggression and give him those smacks that he justly deserved. Swallowing, she told him, "I have a favor to ask and, no, you're not allowed to decline..." **  
**


	8. The Last One to Know

Disclaimer: One Tree Hill and its characters belong to Mark Schwahn, The CW, etc. I'm simply whoring them for my own amusement.

Spoilers/Warnings: I'm screwing with pretty much everything in the OTH verse. For now if you've seen S1, you're golden.

Summary: AU. A one night stand blossoms into much more than Lucas and Peyton originally bargained for.

A/N: Long overdue, I know. Sorry you guys had to wait a month for this part, but school got in the way with writing. After finals next week I'll be able to update regularly again and hopefully finish this and _Fault & Fracture_.

—

**08. The Last One to Know**

Peyton arrived at the café fifteen minutes early for her lunch date with Lucas. He wouldn't have long and the café was close. She liked the café. She'd come to like the food and the ambience. The clientele she wasn't sure about, however, she thought glumly, spotting Nathan sitting at the counter. He glanced over his shoulder, saw her and spun around on the stool. "I didn't know you were working today."

"I'm not," she told him, not sure that it was wise for her to be talking to him when she was expecting Lucas. Though, she didn't move away.

Nathan patted the stool beside him. "Sit. You can have lunch with me."

She glanced outside in search of the car that Lucas had on loan from the dealership. "Maybe another time. Lucas is meeting me."

Nathan frowned at her. "Sidelined for Lucas again," he muttered.

"Excuse me?"

Nathan waved it off, picking up his menu. "You work here, what do you recommend? Because I'm thinking club sandwich. Maybe soup. They have good soup here."

"Why are you here?" she asked, directly. "I mean, _really_."

Nathan tapped the menu with his fingers, toying with the thought of telling her. What fun it would be to see her face and be confronted by his brother afterward… The damage he would do. _No._ He'd waited three years for this. He wasn't going to squander it in a few days time. "I'm here to see my father back to health and _presently_ I'm here because I'm hungry."

If Nathan thought for even a second that she was going to give up that easily, he had a lot to learn. If Lucas wouldn't give her answers, then she'd get them some other way. Even if she had to piss them both off to do it. "Luke said that you and Dan aren't real close, that he marvels over you because you play basketball."

They talked about him? How cozy. How interesting. "That's true," he answered truthfully. "Dan likes me because I play basketball. He loves Lucas because he's his son with the woman he loves." He shrugged noncommittally. "That's my lot in life."

Peyton eyed him curiously and said, "This thing between you and Luke… it's not just about Haley. There's more to it. I just know it. And the two of you are prolonging it…for what?"

He scowled at her menacingly. His relationship with his brother was none of her concern. She was merely a means to an end. He had no genuine interest her aside from ruining any chance she and Lucas had at a long-term commitment. He didn't care about her happiness. He didn't want her for a friend. He wanted his revenge and that was all. "You don't know what you're talking about. You don't know anything about me or my family."

Peyton conceded that point. "That may be true, but I'd wager that you don't either." Peyton turned away from him as Lucas came through the door. She greeted him with a kiss, watching the look that he bestowed on his brother. Okay, it was more of a glare. She grabbed his hand and led him to a table…away from Nathan. She wasn't going to let him ruin their lunch. He did so anyway.

After she and Lucassettled at a table, she started perusing the menu not the least bit surprised when Lucas inquired, "What were you and Nathan talking about?"

"Nothing. He was here when I came in." She looked back towards the counter, but Nathan was gone.

"He's gone now," Lucas supplied helpfully after Peyton had returned her attention to her menu. She was cognizant of the fact that he had yet to look down at the menu, his eyes trained solely on her.

She glanced at him coyly but didn't rise to the occasion. "It was nothing, Luke," she insisted after some time had passed and he hadn't said anything.

"You know I'm not that hungry after all." He rose to his feet, but Peyton's dejected look had him resettling with a sigh. "I told you…"

"I'm aware of what you told me," she snapped. "Can I help it if he's here? No. And it's not in my nature to ignore someone when they're speaking to me. Or would you rather me be rude?"

The waitress approached but Lucas shook his head—they weren't ready. "Nathan's playing you, Peyton. I don't know what he's up to, but I know for sure he's up to no good."

"You know what I think?" she asked twining her hands together as she leaned toward him.

"I'm sure you're going to tell me."

"I think that there's another reason that you and your brother are the way you are. That is more about you butting into his relationship, more than him not being the best boyfriend he was capable of being to Haley. I don't understand why you just can't tell me. Is it really that bad?"

Lucas surprised her, persisting, "I've told you everything, Peyton."

"If that was the truth you wouldn't be so ornery about me talking to your brother."

"I thought we came here to eat lunch."

"We did…until you started throwing out veiled accusations. I don't appreciate that," she huffed, her own attitude shot to hell. She hated arguing with him, but she didn't like this feeling of impending doom that was hanging over them. "And for the record, I don't like being told what to do or what not to do. You're not my father."

Lucas nodded mutely. "In other words telling you to stay away from Nathan was a moot point. You'll talk to him whether I like it or not, is that it?"

"Until I come to the realization that Nathan's a threat to me personally then, yes, if I see him I'm going to talk to him."

"I have to get to work," Lucas announced, rising to his feet.

Peyton stood up as well. "You're leaving? How mature."

His eyes were hard and cold when he set them upon her, his voice the same when he found words. "If Nathan is such enthralling company, next time invite him to lunch so I don't waste my time."

—

Dan was watching ESPN when the door eased open. He was expecting his nurse so he flicked off the TV, taken aback, although pleasantly, when he saw Peyton lingering in the doorway. "Well, hi there, stranger," he greeted her as she waltzed into his room.

"I didn't want to wake you if you were sleeping," she confessed, pushing the door closed behind her.

"A man can't get a decent night's rest in a hospital. I can't tell you how often my doctor will come in at two in the morning and expect to have coffee and conversation. The nurses are the real bother, always coming in here checking my monitors, fluffing my pillows or some nonsense. For all the touching they do I should be charging them." He noted the basket she was carrying. "What's that?"

She smiled knowingly, hiding the basket behind her back. "I brought you a present."

"I see what you're doing. You're trying to bribe me for not commenting on how you haven't been to see me," he teased.

Flashing him her brightest smile, she inquired, "Is it going to work?"

"You've got to—yes, yes, it's going to work. Whatcha got?" He slid over to accommodate the girth of the basket when Peyton placed it on the bed beside his leg.

"I figured that you were bored here by yourself all the time so I brought you a few things."

He jested, "If that basket is full of boxes of Kleenex I am going to be underwhelmed…and slightly amused."

Laughing Peyton shook her head and began handing things to him: CDs, magazines, a can of spray cheese, a box of crackers, cookies, candies, among other things. "See," she said once she was finished, "no Kleenex."

He waved to the box of tissue on the night table. "Well I have enough tissue here to handle the job, if it came to that."

Peyton smothered a chuckle. "The nurses are still unattractive, huh?"

Dan grimaced, eliciting a giggle out of Peyton. "They're so…it's unfair to call them bears. _To the bears._ My last stay I had this one nurse…man, was she a knockout. Karen would stay here every night. I think she was scared that I was going to feel up the nurse or something." He silenced. Smirked. "The thought did cross my mind a time or two, I'll have you know."

"You're incorrigible." Peyton slid into the chair beside his bed.

"I thank you for the basket. I don't get presents unless it's a special occasion or unless one of the kids did something that I have to pay for. It was nice of you."

She shrugged. "I had some time on my hands."

"Karen hasn't needed you at the café, I take it?"

"I work a few hours here and there, but it's presented a problem."

Dan sat up straighter on the bed. "Is everything okay? You and Luke—?"

"We're fine," she assured him. "At least I think we are. Honestly, I don't know. Nathan's been around. Luke feels threatened. I've tried to explain that Nathan's a customer, that I'm entitled to wait on him, talk to him. We haven't spoken in a few days."

"I'm sure the two of you will straighten things out."

"You're probably right," she agreed, smoothing out her skirt over her crossed knees.

Dan opened his mouth to make excuses for his sons, but instead decided to go the other route. It wasn't like he had to be anywhere, he might as well start at the beginning.

"Peyton, the thing you have to realize about Lucas and Nathan is that it's not easy being a son of mine. My mistakes became theirs. It wasn't fair but that's life in a small town. You see, I got Karen pregnant right out of high school. She was pregnant with Lucas and I…I walked away." He waited for Peyton to comment, but she said nothing. He continued speaking. "I left her to raise Lucas on her own. At the time, basketball was more important. I suggested she get an abortion. To this day, I still don't know how she ever forgave me for suggesting such a thing. That's the kind of woman she is."

Peyton noted how Dan smiled as he talked about Karen. Even speaking about the awful thing he'd done, he spoke of her with such praise, such awe, such love. It humbled her. That was the kind of relationship she wanted—the kind that overcame obstacles and strengthened because of it. She didn't want to see her relationship crack under pressure; she wanted it to thrive.

She realized that Dan hadn't stopped talking. "I went on to college to play basketball. I met Nathan's mother there. She got pregnant and we married. I'd gotten hurt so my basketball career was over. We moved back here and though I didn't have to see Karen every day I knew she was in town. I knew she was close. My brother Keith…in my absence he was there for her. He loved her, too, you see. He manned up when I didn't. My marriage was a disaster. I didn't love my wife. The only good that came out of it was Nathan. I tried to divide my time between my two sons, but the more time I spent with Karen and Lucas the more I longed to be with her, with the both of them. It took a toll on everyone involved until…until my wife slept with my brother."

She gasped. "I'm sorry."

"It's our dirty little secret even though the whole town knows. Deb and I tried to make it work. We did everything imaginable to keep our family together for Nathan's sake. Her affair, my love for Karen…we were kidding ourselves. It was messy but I left. Karen and I got back together and got married."

"I don't get what any of this has to do with Lucas and Nathan's inability to get along."

"I'm getting to that…if you'll let me." Peyton smiled sheepishly, and quieted. "Now, where was I? Oh, right. Nathan came to live with us after Deb got addicted to pain pills." At Peyton's curious look, he explained, "Neck injury from a car accident. He was in an "I Hate Daddy" phase since I was living with Lucas and not him."

Peyton interjected, "Ah. I think I know where you're going with this."

Yet Dan continued. "They fought for everything in the beginning. My attention, Karen's. They got along, sure, but there was always a competition for…something. As they got older it became about other stuff: grades, sports, who could guzzle a 7UP the fastest—"

"Ew."

Dan smirked, explaining, "Boys." He shifted on the bed and rearranged the blanket on his lap. "Then it became about girls and sports and…" He stopped. He wondered if Lucas had even told Peyton about his HCM. He made a mental note to kick his son's ass if he hadn't. The two were living under the same roof. She deserved to know.

"You don't have to say anymore, Mr.—Dan. I understand."

"Do you?"

Peyton fidgeted in the leather chair. It was no wonder that Dan was miserable. The furniture left something to be desired. "I have a brother. I know what it's like. The competition. The one-upping."

"I bet you wiped the floor with him."

Peyton buffed her nails on her blouse. "I did pretty well, if I say so myself. Derek was easy to manipulate."

"I've tried to get the two of them to mend their differences but they're just so damn stubborn. They like the fussing and fighting, the competition."

"Do you and Keith get along?"

Dan snorted. "We do now, but when we were their age…" Dan stopped and stared at Peyton. Wagging his finger at her, he said, "I see what you did there. You're saying maybe they'll grow out of it."

"Didn't you?"

"Maybe you can succeed where I failed, Peyton. Maybe you'll be the one to shape them up. Though if Haley didn't have much success I don't see…" Dan snapped his mouth shut when he saw Peyton's spine stiffen and immediately saw his error. Did she know? Had Lucas told her? Regardless, he didn't want her to leave and he certainly didn't want to make her uncomfortable. He changed the subject, dragging the basket she'd brought him onto his lap as he told her, "I'm hungry." He fumbled around at the bottom, unearthing a bag of Snickers. "Oh, God. I probably shouldn't…" he said, setting the bag back in the basket.

"Would you like me to open them?"

Dan tossed her the bag. "Quickly."

—

Lucas had been summoned to the hospital for his father. He'd fired an employee that morning and Dan wanted a report. In person. He'd had to set aside everything he was doing and make a special trip across town just to appease his father. He was on edge, the result of having ignored his girlfriend for the past two days. He wasn't proud of his behavior, but dammit, why couldn't she listen to him and stay the hell away from Nathan?

As if his week wasn't already in the shithole, he spotted his brother exiting the hospital. He prayed that Nathan would keep silent, that they would just pass one another and go on their merry ways. But as they passed one another, Nathan smacked Lucas with his shoulder. Purposefully.

Letting out a deep, frustrated breath, Lucas refused to stoop so low as to retaliate, but Nathan was determined to get under his skin. "How was your lunch?"

"Today?"

"No. The one that you and Peyton had at the café the other day."

Lucas balled his fist and turned away. "Some boyfriend you are, leaving your girlfriend to fend for herself in a strange town. I mean, you don't know what kind of people she'll meet."

"Are you stalking her now?"

Nathan rolled his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. I was in my car taking a call when I saw you leave. She stayed and had lunch by herself."

"Stay away from her, Nathan," Lucas told his brother in a deadly voice.

"I can't help it if she finds me irresistible, Luke." The taunt was one step too far, Nathan realized when Lucas grabbed up fistfuls of his shirt and pushed him against the side of the building.

A nurse leaving flashed them a look but otherwise ignored them. It wasn't her business to interfere so she didn't. For that he was thankful. Lucas didn't want this altercation to get back to his parents. To Peyton.

Lucas growled, "I don't think you're understanding me. I'm not asking you. I'm _telling_ you. Stay. Away. From. Peyton." He punctuated each word to get his point across.

"Get off me." Nathan pushed his brother away, calmly straightening his clothes. "My, my how the mighty have fallen. Feel it now, don't you, Lucas? The despair? The fear? How does it feel to watch her pull away? To watch her make time with someone else? Doesn't feel good, does it?"

"It sucks," Lucas muttered.

"Good. Now take that feeling and multiply it times three. You weren't happy with just stealing Dad and my best friend from me. No, you couldn't be satisfied with them. Saint Lucas had to go and have Haley too. She never meant anything to you, not until you saw what she meant to me."

"That poor, poor pitiful me act is a little tired, Nathan. And I didn't steal Dad from you. Or Tim, for that matter. You didn't have time for either of them. Only basketball. As for Haley, if she meant so much to you, Nathan, why didn't you treat her better? Why all the girls and the lies?"

Nathan harrumphed. "You're one to lecture me about lies. Does Peyton even know about what happened between you and Haley?"

"Shut up, Nathan."

"Surprise, surprise. She doesn't. "

"She will."

"When? On your deathbed after thirty years of marriage and three kids? Wouldn't that be just like you. Maybe I should tell her. At least one of us would be honest with her. She could cry on my shoulder… you know kind of like how Haley did with you. Maybe the end result will be the same." He didn't see Lucas ball his fist until his brother had punched him in the face. He staggered back, crumpling against the wall. As he righted himself, Nathan dabbed at the blood collecting at the corner of his mouth, sneering at his brother. "You tell her, Lucas… or I will."

—

The last few days had been a rollercoaster. She could feel Lucas pulling away. He'd spent the last few nights on the sofa, not returning home until after she'd fallen asleep, leaving in the morning at his usual time. In an effort to keep her mind of their disintegrating relationship, she'd resorted to painting. His bedroom.

She concentrated on the brush strokes, the music pushing her forward, her anger and confusion her motivation. She didn't hear the door open, but she felt Lucas before she ever heard him enter the room. She glanced over her shoulder at him, her paintbrush going limp in her hand. She felt her cheeks go hot. The room was in complete disorder. Drop cloths covered his furniture, the floor and the bed. And his walls... What if he didn't like what she'd done? What if he asked her to get rid of it, paint over it? It was the most she'd painted in…years, probably. It wasn't quite done but she was proud of it.

"It's not finished," Peyton said quickly, bending over to set down the paintbrush. She reached for the washcloth that she had hung on the ladder and wiped her fingers.

Lucas stepped forward, his eyes sweeping around all four walls, in complete awe as he took in the mural. A basketball court. Not just any basketball court, he comprehended immediately. The Rivercourt. Astonished, he spoke to her the first time in days. "When did you have time to do this?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Once I get started it usually doesn't take long."

"I didn't even know that you could do this…" He remembered the art supplies in her loft back in L.A. He'd never thought… never inquired…

"There's a lot that you don't know about me, Lucas." In a whisper, she added, "There's a lot that I don't know about you." It had grated on her nerves how he distrusted her, how he continuously kept her on the outside. She shared his life, but he didn't share his.

"Some things are not easy to talk about," Lucas told her as he noticed the picture taped to the ladder. The Rivercourt, in its glory days. He wondered where she'd gotten the idea, how she knew what it would mean to him.

Peyton began inching across the room toward him. "Lucas, you know you could tell me anything."

"I know that. I do. It's just… I don't want to. Because it's not…" He sighed. Oh, the hell with it. The damage was done. It was either tell her or run the risk of Nathan doing the job for him. Peyton deserved to hear it from him.

She touched his arm, compassion shining in her eyes. "What is it, Lucas? You can tell me."

He took a deep breath and held her gaze as he told her, "I lied to you, Peyton. About Haley." As if burned, she pulled her hand away. He didn't begrudge her the reaction.

"So you and Haley…" She couldn't even get the question out; the words burned her throat.

He continued, "It was only once." Somehow, he doubted that made it better. "One fucking time and it destroyed everything."

Peyton was a couple of sentences behind him. "I asked you point blank if the two of you had slept together and you denied it. _To my face._"

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Sorry? You're sorry? What a grand time for you to chalk that up." Her feelings were more hurt than anything because he didn't trust her enough to tell her the truth. "Don't you trust me?"

"You know I do. It wasn't about trust."

"What was it about then?"

"I know what this does to a relationship, Peyton. My Dad…his first wife cheated on him. With my uncle. I don't think he ever got passed it, the betrayal. He and Keith buried the hatchet, sure, but I saw the way that he looked at Deb and Keith and I…I never wanted you to look at me like that."

"You're a little late for that, aren't you?" she said, glaring at him.

"I hate that I hurt you. That was never my intention. I was a completely different person then. I wanted to protect you from that."

"You didn't protect me from this, though, did you? From _this_ Lucas," she said with a wave of her hand at him. "You should learn to pick your battles a little better."

He watched, defeated, as she started from the room. "Peyton, where are you going?"

She didn't turn back to face him. "The walls need time to dry. Don't touch them. Or touch them…I don't care. I have to go pick up your sister's birthday gift from the airport."

—

"Gimme a hug!"

"Hug yourself," Peyton spat at Chris, pissed off at the world. It was disconcerting finding out that not only had her boyfriend screwed one of her artists—a woman that she could see as a friend—but that he had spent _weeks_ lying to her about it. She hated him, she hated the situation and most of all she hated that she was standing in front of Chris Keller and did not want to smack him silly.

He stopped, stared, then hugged _her_. "This attitude is because you missed me, right? I know I feel the same."

"I did not miss you, you nitwit," she told him, pushing him away and disentangling herself from his arms.

"You know you're making me second guess my decision to come here."

"Need I remind you that your job rests in my hands."

"And what pretty hands they are."

"Yes, and if you don't shut your trap and get moving you're going to find them around your neck, squeezing the life out of you."

"Ouch. Harsh imagery," he complained picking up his bag and guitar. Chris fell into step behind Peyton, letting her lead the way out of the terminal. "So where's your boyfriend? Do I get to meet him? Is he waiting for us in the car? Does he know about our relationship?"

Peyton stopped so abruptly that Chris ran into her back and nearly toppled both of them down to the floor. "Listen, here," she said once she'd righted herself, "You are here to perform. You are not here to make nice with my boyfriend and his family. He's paid for you and he's paying extra not to be bothered by you. Got it?"

"You still didn't answer my question. Does he know about us?"

Huffing, she informed him, "Yes, Lucas knows that in a month when I was clearly on some high volume meds I dated you."

"I am flattered that you tell people that we dated, but do you mind keeping that on the D.L. I don't need that to get around and for people to think that I was banging you to get ahead in my career."

"That was…you can't…ooooh!" she exclaimed, watching as Chris preceded her with a little jaunt. "You know I might fire you after all."

He turned around and began walking backwards as he shot back, "Then who would you threaten to maim?" He tapped his temple with his forefinger. "I got all my bases covered."

Smiling with satisfaction, Peyton watched as Chris neared the doors, tripped over the threshold and landed flat on his ass on the pavement outside. Standing over him, she said smugly, "Uh huh. Serves you right."

"Stop smiling and help me up."

"I should leave you there," Peyton told him as she extended her hand and helped him to his feet.

"You're in a mood today," he noted, brushing himself off.

"I am, so try not to piss me off further."

"Like I would do that." She gave him a dour look. "Okay, I would, but not intentionally."

—

After she'd dropped Chris off at his hotel, Peyton reluctantly returned to the beach house. She'd debated getting a hotel room or even staying with Chris but she wasn't that desperate. Or crazy.

The door had just slammed behind her when Lucas walked out of the bathroom. His hair was still wet and he hadn't had time to get dressed. Her anger was still new and potent; the sight didn't do anything for her. Yet, she tried not to notice that he was holding his towel secure with one hand. God help her if his grasp waned.

"You're back." He sounded surprised. "I thought that maybe…you were pretty angry when you left."

"I still am."

"You're hiding it well."

She shrugged. "It's on a low boil." She gestured to her paint splattered jeans and tee. "The party is in a few hours and I'm a mess." She pointed towards the bathroom. "Are you done?"

He nodded. "I'm sorry I hurt you, Peyton. I really am," he told her as she moved past him.

At the bathroom, she stopped and faced him. "Don't sweat it, Lucas. You aren't the first man in my life to lie and cheat. I just thought you were different." She paused, then sadly added, "You're more like him than I realized."

Lucas watched the door close, wondering whom Peyton was talking about. Who was she comparing him to? Had she made the comparison all along? Was this man still in her life?

Maybe it wasn't just his mistakes he was paying for, but someone else's as well.


	9. There's No I in Threesome

Disclaimer: One Tree Hill and its characters belong to Mark Schwahn, The CW, etc. I'm simply whoring them for my own amusement.

Spoilers/Warnings: I'm screwing with pretty much everything in the OTH verse. For now if you've seen S1, you're golden.

Summary: AU. A one night stand blossoms into much more than Lucas and Peyton originally bargained for.

A/N: Alrighty, then. Sorry it took me nearly a month to get this baby posted. I was preoccupied with _that other fic_. The next chapter will be the last, however, and will be relatively short.

—

**09. There's No I in Threesome**

It had bugged him all night, the man that Peyton had been referring to. It could have been her father—Peyton seemed the type to have daddy issues—but something told him that wasn't the case. That it was a romantic relationship. Aside from admitting to her brief relationship with Chris Keller, Peyton hadn't said anything further.

And she said _he_ kept secrets.

He stood at the bar, watching her. She was talking to Tim and Skills, laughing at whatever the two morons were saying. She hadn't so much as spoke to him since they'd arrived. After she'd disappeared into the bathroom, they hadn't spoken another word until they were in the car. "What are you trying to do, suffocate me?" she'd asked when he'd failed to turn on the air conditioning. She seemed content to ignore him and, he had to admit, he deserved every silent second.

Despite the gulf that was between them, he couldn't take his eyes from her. She was ravishing in some plum colored concoction. He wasn't the only one watching her that was for sure. Even Tim was salivating over her. Much to the chagrin of his date.

Someone sidled up beside him and he didn't realize who it was until she spoke. "I thought this was Lily's party." _Haley_. Wonderful. He stifled a groan. That would make things between Peyton better not worse. Not at all.

"It is," he said, turning toward her.

"Maybe someone should tell them that." Haley gestured over to the group that was surrounding Peyton.

"They're just talking. Besides, Lily is with her friends, awaiting her birthday present to come out and serenade her." Lily's happiness over having Chris Keller at her birthday was the only thing keeping this evening from being completely miserable. He loved when his sister was happy and that he'd been able to get her something that was so normally unattainable. He had Peyton to thank for that…if only she would let him.

Lucas grabbed his drink and stepped away. "I should really go check on Lily." He started to walk away, but Haley grabbed his hand.

"What's wrong, Luke?"

Something made him turn back to look at Peyton. She was watching him and Haley intently. He snatched his hand out of Haley's grasp, albeit a little rougher than he should have. Her shoulders sagged and it made him feel like a total ass. He was an ass. "I told Peyton what happened between us."

"Why…why…why would you do that? It didn't mean anything."

"She didn't see it that way, unfortunately. And you…right now…you're not helping me. Please, Haley. Just…I don't want to lose her." He never begged for anything in his life, but he would beg and grovel for Peyton. He refused to let her go.

Haley sighed. She didn't know what Lucas wanted from her, wanted her to do. But it was Peyton he wanted. And if she wanted to be honest with herself, she didn't want him either. "I came here for Lily. I'll just go…" Before she left him alone, she turned to ask, "Do you love her, Luke?"

"If I do, you won't be the first person I tell."

—

Lucas approached Peyton apprehensively on the pretext of asking her to help him with…something. He scurried through different excuses as he crossed the floor to her where she was deep in conversation with Tim's date for the night. He interrupted, telling Peyton that he needed to speak with her. "Privately," he added when she gave him a look that said, "Well, talk." Taking her elbow, he led her away.

"What, is Haley preoccupied?" Peyton wriggled her arm free of his grasp, hating the little tremors that flitted along her skin with his touch. She wanted to be left alone to stew in her anger and she couldn't do that, she couldn't think, when he touched her.

"We were just talking. Which you saw."

"I _saw_ you holding her hand."

"She grabbed my hand. I was not holding hers."

Peyton crossed her arms, flattening her back against the wall. "Thanks for the update. Are we done?"

"Not even close." He braced his hand against the wall beside her head, leaning close. "Come on, Peyton, we can get through this. I know we can."

"I don't know if we can. I don't like lies, Lucas."

His temper flared. "Whose, Peyton? Because I don't think your anger is about me at all."

"I don't know what you're talking about." She looked away. She knew exactly what he was talking about. _Who _he was talking about.

"Keep your secrets, then. But I refuse to be held responsible for someone else's mistakes."

Lucas was about to walk away when Chris Keller said over the sound system, "The next song is for Lucas and Peyton. Lily says thanks." A strobe light found them standing in a corner. People clapped. They mutually groaned.

"They're expecting us to dance, aren't they?"

Lucas nodded. He took her hand and led her out onto the dance floor. Chris began playing and Peyton whispered, "What is he doing? He's supposed to be playing songs off the new album." Instead, Chris sang a rendition of Cheap Trick's "The Flame." It was one of her favorite songs, yes, but the moron was supposed to be promoting an album.

"You're constantly in producer mode, aren't you?"

Despite the situation, she smiled at him. "What can I say? I love my job."

"And you're good at what you do. That makes a difference."

"You like what you do, don't you? Writing?"

"Of course, but I haven't been able to do much writing lately, not with manning the car dealership." He sighed. "Sometimes I think this was a mistake."

"What, us…or coming here?"

"No, not us. Never us. Coming here."

"But you love it here. Say what you will, but you do."

Lucas couldn't refute that fact. He did love Tree Hill. It was home. But since things with Nathan had gone sour, he just hadn't enjoyed the town like he used to. "Things just got so fucked up," he mused aloud.

"Because you lied to me. None of this would've happened if you had just told me the truth."

Lucas shook his head, his anger spiking. "No, because then I'd still be the biggest dick ever because I did something similar to some other guy you've known. Whether you want to acknowledge it or not, Peyton, you're pissed at me for what he did and I'm willing to bet that what he did was a whole lot worse."

Peyton hung her head. She knew what he was saying was true. What happened with Jake was similar to what happened with him, Nathan, and Haley. But it wasn't the same. Not at all. Yet she still couldn't distinguish between the two. The similarities were still there. Just like the raw feelings of betrayal.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Lucas."

"I want you to forgive me. I want you to say that this isn't our end."

"I'm sorry, Lucas. I can't." She slipped out of his arms, leaving him standing on the dance floor all alone as Chris sang the lyrics _I'm in too far, I'm in too deep over you, you'll always be the one_.

Fitting, considering he was in love with the damn woman.

—

Peyton was sitting at the bar while Chris continued to play, Lucas where he should be with his sister. She should've been up there with them, but she'd had enough of Chris in the last four hours to last her a whole year. As if Chris wasn't enough, she also had to tolerate seeing Haley.

It had been Luke's idea to invite his best friend. For Lily, he had said. It wasn't her birthday to micromanage the guest list. Now, Haley was standing with Lucas and Lily, watching Chris perform and Peyton was trying to resist the urge not to do something catty. If Lucas had to have a girl for a best friend, why couldn't she have glasses or braces? Why did she have to be pretty? Why did she have to be _Haley_?

"Wow, you're certainly taking it better than I did," Nathan told Peyton, sliding onto the stool beside her. He followed her line of vision, which was focused on Lucas and Haley who were standing very close, their arms nearly touching. She tried to picture them together, kissing; doing the things that she and Lucas did…she immediately shook the thought away. It had been years ago. It shouldn't bother her. It did.

"Taking what?" she asked Nathan softly, her warring emotions making her sad instead of angry.

He gestured toward Lucas and Haley. "Their relationship."

"They don't have a relationship," Peyton spat, angrily. She wasn't in the mood for Nathan's games. She was only in the mood to get drunk and forget her problems, forget that her boyfriend's long ago indiscretion had summoned up feelings that she'd thought long buried.

"Of course not. After all, he has you now. But they used to be quite the pair. Inseparable." Nathan watched with satisfaction as she devoured his words. He was a little perturbed, however, when she remained quiet. There was no cursing him, no pounding her fist on the bar. She didn't fly off her stool to go confront Lucas. She didn't even touch her drink. He frowned. This was not going as planned.

She looked at him, then, giving him a smile, however fake it was. "You can stop wasting your breath, Nathan." She whispered, "_I know._"

Well. He was impressed. His brother might be in love after all. However, he wasn't giving up. He would elicit a response from Peyton, one way or the other, even if he had to paint her a picture of what he'd seen. "Did he tell you that I walked in on them?" Her gaze snapped to him then. Bingo! "Yeah, right in the middle. That's an image that will be forever seared into my brain." He paused, and waited. "I'm actually surprised Lucas told you. The only one he's ever honest with is Haley."

Peyton couldn't hear anymore. She couldn't be here anymore. Not around Nathan or Lucas or Haley. She pushed her drink away and slid off the bar stool. "I'm not feeling so good. Could you— if Lucas asks— I have to go."

Nathan shot his hand out and grabbed her wrist. "Hey, are you okay? Do you want me to drive you?"

"No. I think you've done enough."

—

Nathan recognized her perfume, that floral scent that always made him think of spring rain and blooming flowers. He looked over his shoulder and sure enough, there she was. He'd saw her earlier talking to Lucas. He'd wanted to talk to her himself, but just hadn't the courage.

"What are you doing, Nathan?"

"I'm having a drink," he said, gesturing to the glass before him. It was club soda—but still.

"Liar. I saw you talking to Peyton and I saw her running to get away from you."

"She was not…you don't know what the hell you're talking about, Haley. Besides she was running away from you and my brother."

"It's time to let it go, Nathan. None of this is Luke's fault."

He scoffed. "You protecting Lucas…wonders never cease, do they?"

"Doing to him…exacting revenge it's only going to make a bad situation worse. It's not going to change anything. We'll still be broken."

"He broke us, Haley."

"No, Nathan, he didn't. You did. You broke us. You loved basketball and your groupies more than you ever loved me…if you even loved me at all."

"I loved you," he murmured, meeting her eyes. It was the worst mistake he could have ever made. Her eyes were soft and glassy—she was on the brink of tears.

"Then why wasn't I enough?" she demanded curiously. It was the first time she'd ever asked him that question.

Nathan started to answer, but realized it was a rhetorical question when Haley spun away. She never had liked for him to see her cry_. Why wasn't she enough?_ He wondered as she disappeared into the crowd.

—

Peyton woke up on black satin sheets, her mouth dry, her head aching like the dickens. She was alone so that was good. She turned over and was struggling to sit up when she spotted Nathan at the edge of the bed. "You're alive," he said, laughter in his voice.

"Surprised, are you?"

He handed her a cup of coffee. "Here. I thought this might help."

"Thank you," she said, taking the cup from him. As she lifted the Styrofoam cup to her lips she spotted a dartboard on the opposing wall, a picture of Lucas tacked to the front. "Does it help?" She gestured to it.

"Usually. My aim is off lately."

"It's because of Haley." Nathan started to deny it, but Peyton talked over him. "I saw the two of you at Lily's party." She'd wanted to tell Lily goodbye, but had forgotten herself when she'd seen Nathan and Haley talking.

She'd watched them for a few minutes, things clicking into place, her anger with Lucas dissipating. It was so easy to see that things between Nathan and Haley weren't over, if one watched them long enough. And she had. She'd saw Haley's hands shaking as she stood there talking to her ex-boyfriend, the tears pouring down her face when she spun away from him later.

Maybe Haley did love Lucas, but was she _in love_ with Lucas? It was a possibility. A person could love two people if their hearts allowed it. However, Peyton doubted that Haley's heart was that accepting. Haley seemed the type to love one person, interminably. Like Peyton herself.

"I'm not the one she wants, Peyton."

Peyton shook her head, wincing at the pain in her temple. This wasn't a conversation she needed to have with a hangover, but she may never get another chance. When Lucas realized that she hadn't gone home and that she'd spent the night with Nathan, there was no doubt in her mind that he'd never let her speak to his brother again. "I saw her with both of you and with Lucas not once did I get the feeling that I was spying on two lovers. She may love him, but she's _in love_ with you."

"I thought you were convinced that she was in love with my brother."

"Opinions change," she said with a shrug of her shoulders. "She loves you. That was obvious to me, Nathan. I honestly don't think Lucas or Haley set out to hurt you. Or me, for that matter. Sure, what they did was screwed up, but it was one time. They didn't have an on-going affair."

"But she has feelings for him!"

"The girl is probably just confused."

"How can you defend her?"

"How can you not? If you love her, you fight for her, you show her. That's probably what started all this to begin with. You didn't show her, did you?" Nathan remained quiet. "I didn't think so. A girl doesn't hop into bed with her boyfriend's brother if he's showering her with love and affection."

Nathan didn't want to hear anymore, especially since she had a point. He hadn't shown Haley how much he'd loved her until it was too late. Grabbing her purse off the floor, he set it in her lap, saying, "Your phone has been ringing all morning. I'm assuming that someone noticed you didn't go home."

"I would assume so," she murmured. She wasn't letting him change the subject that easily. "I think you still have a shot if you're man enough to take it."

He disagreed, shaking his head. He'd tried to make amends, it hadn't worked. For three years he'd busted his ass to show Haley that he wanted her and no one else, but she'd been content with friendship when he'd wished for more. "Too much has happened. I—_we_—can't go back."

"You can always go back…especially if there's someone there to take the journey with you."

Nathan realized that they were no longer talking about him and Haley. "You're in love with my brother, aren't you?"

This time she answered him, however flippantly. "Am I that obvious?"

"You don't hide it well."

"I should probably get out of here. If he finds me here with you he'll never forgive either of us." Peyton threw back the blankets and was standing up when her vision blanked and she swayed. Nathan's quick reflexes saved her from hitting the floor.

That was how Lucas found them. Wrapped up in each other's arms.

They both looked at Lucas, agape, then realizing they were still in each other's arms, jumped away. "I was worried when you didn't come back," he said, focusing his attention on Peyton. If he looked at Nathan, he didn't know what he would do. Probably push him out the door into oncoming traffic. "One of the bartenders at the club said that you were talking to him last night. I thought I'd take my chances that he knew where you'd be. I just never…"

"It's not what you think." That was Nathan.

"Isn't it?" he exclaimed, turning to cast dark eyes on his brother. "This was what you set out to do, isn't it? Congratulations, Nathan. You won. I understand now."

Nathan wasn't going to be blamed for something that he hadn't done. Sure, he had set out to do it, but he didn't. He couldn't. He circled the bed until he was just a few feet from his brother. "If you'd let me explain…"

"I don't want your damn explanations and don't you come any closer," Lucas warned. He wouldn't be responsible for his actions if Nathan advanced any closer.

Nathan stood a step forward without hesitation. What was Lucas going to do, hit him?

Yet, that's precisely what Lucas did—a good solid punch to the jaw. Then, he simply turned and walked away.

"Lucas! Lucas!" Peyton yelled after him. He stopped in the doorway for a moment, but he didn't look back, nor he did he come back. Tears streaming down her face, Peyton fell onto the bed. When Nathan attempted to comfort her, she slapped him across the face. She hissed, "This is all your fault."

He didn't dare disagree.

—

Lucas was sitting in a chair in the living room, a near empty glass of bourbon in his hand when Peyton returned. He looked up at her and held her gaze for a moment before he looked away. He couldn't bear to look at her.

She slammed the door closed. "You don't want to talk, you don't have to," she yelled, walking into the room. "But we're not going to make the same mistakes Nathan and Haley did. We're not going to lose years. I'm not going to lose you." She threw her purse onto the sofa. "I didn't have sex with Nathan. That may have been his agenda, but _nothing happened_. I was drunk last and Nathan didn't want me to drive. So he took me to his place. When you walked in…I couldn't walk. I almost fell. He caught me. It was innocent."

"How do I know that's true? I lied to you. You could be lying to me."

"Have I ever lied to you? No, because that's not who I am."

"But it's who I am, right? Lucas the Liar," he snorted.

"I didn't say that. Don't put words in my mouth. And don't start acting contrite now. You knew what you were doing. You had every opportunity imaginable to tell me the truth—you chose not to."

Lucas couldn't argue so he said nothing. Peyton took the glass from him and sat down on the coffee table in front of him. "You were right about what you said last night. I was holding someone else's transgressions against you. You remind me a lot of him. But really you're nothing like him."

Lucas started to say something, but Peyton leaned forward, putting her fingers over his mouth. "No. Not yet. Let me talk. Let me say this." Taking her hand away and putting it in her lap, she told him, "His name was Jake. He was the world to me when I was a teenager. But he cheated on me—repeatedly. He told one lie after the other to cover himself and when you told me about Haley…I thought about that and the night that he finally told me the truth. You were right. Yes, what he did was so much worse than what you did. He was a musician and had an ongoing affair with a groupie. They even had a child together." She felt tears prickling her eyes, but blinked them away. It always happened when she talked about Jake. She felt foolish for being cowed the way she'd been. "I loved him," she went on. "At least I thought it was love. Now I think it was merely an infatuation. The way I felt for him…it doesn't compare with how I feel for you, Lucas."

"And how do you…"

She huffed, "Surely you must know that I'm in love with you. I wouldn't have come here with you if I hadn't…if I hadn't already loved you."

Lucas sat forward, putting his hands on her knees. "Can you forgive me, Peyton?"

"Can _you_ forgive _me_?" She didn't wait on his answer. "I didn't sleep with Nathan. I think that's what he initially set out to do, yes…but something happened. I think it was Haley."

Lucas smiled then. "It was always about Haley. It was never about me. I understood that. He didn't know what to do when he lost her, when she refused to take him back. Getting angry with me, wanting to get even…that was his way of trying to get over her."

"Well, he did a bang up job of it."

His smile widened as he inched closer. "I love you. Even if you had slept with Nathan…I'd still love you."

"I didn't, Lucas. I swear to you that I—"

His fingers were firm against her mouth. "I believe you."

"You do?"

"I love you, Peyton. _I love you._"

"I like hearing you say that."

"I don't know why I didn't say it before."

"The time wasn't right." She closed the distance between them, climbing into his lap. "I love you, Lucas," she whispered in one ear, and then repeated it in the other. She pressed kisses down one column of his throat and then the other. She told him. Now, she wanted to show him. She was reaching for the buttons on his shirt when he snared her wrists and pushed her back.

"No—wait. There's something I gotta take care of first."

"Now?" she exclaimed, incredulous that he was leaving her now. "But we were about to make up."

"Later." Lucas shifted her off his lap and stood up. "I'll be back. Then we can pick up wherever you want." With a kiss to her nose, he was gone.

—

Nathan opened the door, surprised to find his brother on the other side. He flexed his jaw and stepped aside waving Lucas in. "I can't say I'm not surprised to see you." He faced his brother, watching as Lucas rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. "What are you doing?"

"We've been butting heads for years, Nathan. It's time we settle it like men."

"We're not going to fight."

"Aren't we?"

"No. I don't want to fight you, Lucas. I'm… I'm tired of fighting you."

Lucas dropped his fists to his side. "I didn't intend to hurt you, Nathan. I was pot-slinging drunk when Haley appeared at my door. It was never supposed to go as far as it did."

"It happened, Luke. You can't take it back."

"No, I can't. But the facts remain the same. We can't get back the past three years or undo all the damage that's been done, but maybe we can call a truce? I think Haley and Peyton would appreciate that. So would Dad."

"I didn't sleep with Peyton."

"I know you didn't."

"I was going to."

"I know you were." Then, "Why'd you change your mind?"

Nathan shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, honestly. It was something in her voice when I was talking to her at the bar. In that moment, I knew that I wasn't hurting you as much as I was hurting her. I had come to like her and I just… I hated that I hurt her, that I dragged her into our mess. It was selfish."

The party had been over by the time he'd wound up back at the bar and encountered Peyton. She was already deep into her cups by the time he sat beside her, raving about Lucas and Haley and everything that had happened since she'd come to Tree Hill. Her words had weakened his resolve, more so following his conversation with Haley. After talking to her he hadn't been able to think of anything else, much less bedding his brother's girlfriend out of spite.

"Nathan, this has got to stop. If we keep on the way we are we're going to turn out just like Dad and Uncle Keith. I don't know about you but I don't want that to be us in twenty years."

"No. Me, either," Nathan mumbled. He watched Lucas reach into his pocket, extracting a slip of paper. Lucas held it out to him. "What's that?"

"That's where Haley's staying. Go to her. Work it out."

"Luke, I can't…"

"Look, it was a fucked up thing that the two of us did. We weren't in good places and things escalated."

Nathan held up his hand, his eyes closed. "Spare me the details, please."

"I wasn't going to go into detail. If I remember you got your eyes full—" He stopped, seeing his brother's pained expression. "Just…try, Nathan. Otherwise you'll always wonder what might have been."

Nathan sighed, but snatched up the paper, stuffing it into his pocket. "I take it that you and Peyton worked things out."

"Things are going to be touch and go for a while. She's very big on honesty, but you know I think we're going to be okay." He was eager to get back to her, but felt it was imperative he settled things with Nathan first.

"That's good. I hope you can work things out."

"I hope the same for you and Haley." Lucas headed for the door, but stopped just short of it and turned around when Nathan called out to him.

"I'm sorry I almost messed things up for you."

"You didn't, though. That's what matters. If you had our conversation would've turned out much differently." Lucas opened the door and walked out leaving Nathan to blow out a breath as he stared down at the paper in his hand, fighting the decision to follow his older brother's advice.

"It's so much easier to hate him," he muttered to himself, grabbing his keys off the bar, making a beeline for the door.

—

"I want another chance," Nathan said when she opened the door.

"Nathan, what are you—?" Haley asked as he stormed past her into the room.

"No," he told her gruffly watching as she closed the door. "I've let you make all the decisions the last few years because I felt guilty for how I treated you. Well now it's my turn. I want you, Haley. I want you back and I'm not leaving this room until you agree that we have something worth salvaging."

"Nathan—"

"Why won't you forgive me? For goodness sake, wasn't walking in on you and Lucas punishment enough? Haven't I paid for all of my transgressions? I love you. I've never stopped loving you. I tried to hate you, but I couldn't—_I can't_."

"Nate—" she tried again.

"I'll do whatever you want, Haley. Just say that you'll give me another chance." When she just continued to stare at him blankly, he said, "You should know that Lucas and I squared things away. You need him in your life, I understand that. Just…_please_, Haley."

She noticed the bruising on his jaw. "Did he punch you?"

Nathan nodded. "It was a long time coming. Plus, he walked in and found Peyton in my arms." At her gasp, he added, "It was nothing. She was drunk and had a little trouble remaining vertical."

"So you didn't—?"

"No."

"I'm not sure this is a good idea, Nathan."

"Why?"

"Because you have the ability to hurt me more than anyone else…"

Nathan crossed the room to her, grabbing her arms in his hands. "I won't. I swear it. I want you, Haley. Only you. You can turn me away but I'm not going to give up."

"You plan on pursuing me relentlessly, huh?"

"I'll do whatever I have to do." He sighed. "I just have to know one thing."

"Okay…"

"Lucas…do you love him—are you in love with him?"

Haley didn't answer him for a long moment. "I convinced myself I was. Lucas was all the things that I wanted you to be back then. He was kind and considerate and he paid attention to me. After we…afterward I wanted something to happen, I'll admit. I was hoping he'd look at me differently. But he never did. And when I got here…I didn't have a chance. Peyton's his world. I want to be someone's world. I want to be _your _world."

He crushed her to him, murmuring in her ear, "You are, Haley. You always have been. You always will be."

—

Peyton was sprawled across his spare bed when Lucas returned to the beach house. He thought to ask why but remembered that she'd painted his bedroom and the fumes were still far too strong. He noted that she'd shucked the dress she'd worn last night and was wearing a ratty old t-shirt. "Does your head hurt?" he asked, entering the room.

"It feels like there are a million carpenters in my head and they're building the biggest mansion on the planet," she moaned.

"Can I do something for you?" he asked, climbing onto the bed. He put his hand on her stomach, his touch gentle and comforting.

Peyton looked up at him, searching his face. "You can tell me where you went."

Lucas toed off his shoes then stretched out on his back beside her. "If you must know I went to see Nathan."

"Oh, God," she groaned, her eyes slipping closed.

"I thought we should battle out our differences once and for all."

She sat upright to look at him. She studied his face then picked up each one of his hands. "I don't see any signs that he fought back."

"We didn't fight at all," he assured her, capturing her hand, pressing a kiss to the top.

"That's a relief, I guess. What happened, then?"

Lucas blew out a frenzied breath. "We talked. We'll never be close but I think we can be in the same room for now on without wanting to beat each other senseless."

"Give it time, Luke. You'll get there."

He patted her hand, assuring her, "I accepted my fragile relationship with Nathan long ago, Peyton. As long as I have you, I can deal with how things are."

"You have me, Lucas. _You have me._"

"Can I have you now?" he all but growled.

"You can have me whenever you please," she said looping her arms around his neck to pull him closer.


End file.
